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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27747868">Romione Ramblings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/be11atrixthestrange/pseuds/be11atrixthestrange'>be11atrixthestrange</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:41:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,828</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27747868</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/be11atrixthestrange/pseuds/be11atrixthestrange</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of ficlets based on tumblr prompts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Exceeds Expectations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Ron and Hermione fail at teacher-student roleplay</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well Miss Granger. It appears that you’ve failed your NEWTs. I’m assuming you’re here to discuss options?”</p><p>“Yeah. Um… I guess I….<em> failed everything. </em>” She sighed and glanced away and Ron saw her lip tremble. Then she hastily brushed a tear away from her face.</p><p>
  <em> Hold on, was she actually crying?  </em>
</p><p>“Shit. Hermione, We took it too far, didn’t we?”</p><p>“No, no, it’s ok. I can do this,” she said as she caught her breath. “Just, what if, instead of failing everything, I just received Exceeds Expectations. Instead of Outstanding.”</p><p>Ron sighed. “Ok,” he said skeptically. “Let’s try this again then?”</p><p>“Sure.” Hermione readjusted her old school robes, and took a deep breath. <em> “Keep it together Hermione </em>,” she said mostly to herself. Ron couldn’t help but smile.</p><p>He cleared his throat. “Miss Granger. It seems that you may have been slightly less prepared for the latest exam. Your marks were--”</p><p>“Ok stop, stop,” she stammered..” I can’t do this.”</p><p>Ron groaned.</p><p>“Sorry! I just can’t help it!” she shrugged. “If I panic at the thought of failing school, I fail at roleplay. I can’t win. This is supposed to be<em> fun </em> .” Her face was pink, and her eyebrows knit together in anxiety. More softly, she continued, “I don’t want to fail <em> you </em>.” </p><p>Ron smiled to himself, and held his arms out for her. She approached and collapsed into him, resting her head on his shoulder. It was very on-brand for Hermione to be upset by <em> pretending to fail </em>school, even in the hypothetical sense. “Would you rather be the professor?” he murmured into her hair.</p><p>Hermione’s face lit up. “Yes!  I mean… if that’s ok with you.” </p><p>Ron laughed. “Of course. You could have just said that.” </p><p>“I’m not sure my school robes make sense anymore,” she said anxiously, looking down at her clothing..</p><p>“That’s ok. I can pretend.” </p><p>“Hold on,” Hermione looked at him curiously. “You never cared about your marks, I have a hard time believing you’d be <em> this </em> motivated to change them,” she said, gesturing to herself.</p><p>“I guess you’ve rubbed off on me,” he said with a smirk. “Now I want to do anything I can to get my grades up. <em> Anything. </em> Professor Granger.” He reached a hand to her face and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger there.</p><p>Hermione blushed.</p><p>“I mean, if you’re available for any private tutoring, I’m sure you could help me bring that ‘acceptable’ grade,” he drew his finger from behind her ear to her collarbone, “up to an outstanding.”</p><p>Hermione paused and looked up at him, straight-faced. “Mr. Weasley, I’m sorry I can’t do this,” she put her hand on his chest and gently nudged him away. “You’re my student, and I could get in so much trouble.”</p><p>“I’m willing to risk it,” said Ron quietly. He reached his hand behind her waist, and tugged her closer to him. As he leaned in for a kiss, Hermione turned her head to the side, and his lips brushed against her cheek. He felt her stiffen and suck a breath in. </p><p>“Ron, really, I can’t.” </p><p>“I won’t tell…”</p><p>“Teaspoon.”</p><p>Ron paused at the sound of their chosen safe word. “Ok, what’s wrong now?” he asked, his lips still on her cheek.</p><p>“I just can’t stand the thought of doing anything that might get me fired. Even hypothetically.”</p><p>Ron pulled himself away, and looked into her eyes, which were starting to shimmer with anxious tears again. He smiled reassuringly at her. “That’s perfectly ok.” </p><p>“What if…,” Hermione glanced away in thought. “What if I was the Quidditch Captain, and you desperately wanted to make the team? I’m ok with risking that.”</p><p>Ron grinned and pulled her back in. “What if we were just Ron and Hermione?”</p><p>“Well, sure. I just thought you wanted to try rolepl--”</p><p>He interrupted her by pressing his lips to hers. Reaching his hands behind her hips, he hoisted her up and pulled her to him. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist. </p><p>When Ron broke this kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. “We did try. Thank you for that,’ he said sincerely. He gently lowered her to his bed, and crawled up next to her. “I just really love <em> us. </em>Exactly as we are.”</p><p>She smiled at him and reached her hand behind his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. ‘Thank you. I don’t really want to pretend you’re anyone else, anyway,” she told him before kissing him deeply. She pulled away and added in a whisper, “You’ve far exceeded my expectations.”</p><p>Ron smiled, and returned her kiss with enthusiasm.<em> Same </em>, he thought. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Desperate Measures</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: "Can you write a fic where Hermione has a row with Ron and she was wrong? She is doing everything she can so he can stop ignoring her and tries to apologise."</p><p>Desperate times call for desperate measures, but sometimes the desperate measure could be as simple as an apology.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Desperate times call for desperate measures.</p><p>At least that's what Hermione kept telling herself to justify taking the day off of work. Not only that, she lied to her boss, and told him she was sick. It wasn't a total lie, she did feel ill. But not for the reasons implied to her boss. As far as she knew, nausea due to shame and guilt wasn't contagious.</p><p>Shame and guilt. That's that real reason Hermione was at home, making an epic mess in her kitchen on a Friday afternoon. She wasn't nearly as good at baking spells as Mrs. Weasley, and she was currently regretting turning down all of her past attempts to pass that wisdom onto her.</p><p>Hermione was stuck baking the muggle way, and it was probably going to be terrible, because Ron was used to the best treacle tarts in the world, and this was truly a sad attempt.</p><p>At least she had a second gift for Ron, if the treacle tarts turned out to be a disaster. A pair of tickets to the Chudley Cannons game this weekend was sure to get him talking to her again.</p><p>After setting the treacle tart into the oven, Hermione placed two plates on the table and lit a candle. She had picked up Ron's favorite brand of wine, and put the envelope with the Chudley Cannons tickets onto the table between them.</p><p>It seemed like an extreme gesture, but this was not the first olive branch that Hermione had extended this week.</p><p>It had been four days since the fight. On Monday Hermione was startled by Ron's abrupt entrance into their flat. She knew he had plans with his brothers that evening, but hadn't expected him to arrive home so late. And even worse, so <em>drunk. </em></p><p>On Monday evening Ron arrived home, muttering something about having too many gin and tonics at the bar. He collapsed onto the couch and was asleep before Hermione could argue with him. She was mildly annoyed that he didn't communicate his timeline with her, but she was willing to let it go, even though that meant sleeping in their giant bed alone.</p><p>They didn't interact the next morning, since Hermione had an early day at work and Ron wasn't supposed to be in until later, so she didn't think much of him sleeping in. At least until later that afternoon when she came home and he was still there.</p><p>She woke him up immediately upon her return.</p><p>"Ron!"</p><p>"Hmmmph," he grunted in his sleep.</p><p>"Why are you still sleeping?"</p><p>"What?" said Ron a little more clearly.</p><p>"Ron! It's three in the afternoon! Why aren't you at work?"</p><p>"Wait a minute," said Ron groggily. "It's three? In the <em>afternoon</em>?"</p><p>"Yes! And you're supposed to be at work!"</p><p>Ron groaned as he carefully lifted himself to a seat. "Fuck, I slept in," he muttered.</p><p>"You think?" Hermione said shrilly.</p><p>"I need to owl my boss," said Ron, as he cautiously rose to his feet. "But first, I'm going to be sick," he said as he ran off toward the loo.</p><p>Hermione was fuming when he reentered the living room looking somewhat presentable. "I can't believe you got so drunk on a weekday and missed work-"</p><p>"Hermione-"</p><p>"Really, how could you be so irresponsible? You could get fired for this."</p><p>"Hermione, please stop," Ron said while he scribbled his note to his boss. "I feel guilty enough, I don't need you to make me feel worse."</p><p>"Well you should feel guilty!"</p><p>"HERMIONE." She froze at the harshness of his tone. "Please stop. I don't need you guilting me. Seriously, it feels like we're in school and I missed an assignment."</p><p>"This is far worse than that, Ron," she said gravely.</p><p>"Do you even remember why I was out yesterday?"</p><p>"Does it matter?" said Hermoine. Truthfully, she didn't remember why he had gone out with his brothers during the week, or why that minor detail would even be important right now.</p><p>"I can't believe you." After owling his boss, Ron turned toward the bedroom.</p><p>"Where are you going," asked Hermione, following him.</p><p>"Well I'm going to work, Hermione. And I'm packing a bag, to spend the night at George's."</p><p>"And why would you do that?"</p><p>Ron halted, and turned back to face her. "Because he doesn't micromanage me like you do." Ron said as he shoved a change of clothes into an overnight bag.</p><p>"Ron-"</p><p>"Plus, he needs a brother right now."</p><p>Hermione didn't have time to respond before Ron disappeared. She was still angrier than ever and couldn't believe he would be so dismissive and irresponsible.</p><hr/><p>It wasn't until later that day when she checked her calendar that she realized the date, and felt her stomach tighten in guilt. It was April second. Ron must have spent the last night at the bar with George to celebrate his birthday, so he didn't have to celebrate it alone.</p><p>Since he never mentioned the reason to her, he must have assumed she knew. He probably expected her to understand, and rightfully so. But instead, she jumped to the conclusion that Ron was irresponsible and neglectful, when he was really just taking time to grieve with his brother.</p><p>He continued to sleep at George's, which concerned her, and she wanted him back. The next day after their argument, she appeared in his office at lunch time to ask him to eat with her. She even brought a sandwich from his favorite deli, but he told her he had a work meeting and would eat it later.</p><p>She left him to it, but later saw him eating lunch with Harry and a few other employees at the ministry cafe. Her first instinct was to be angry at his, but instead she just felt hurt. Then she became more determined to make it right.</p><p>The next day Hermione left a note on his desk for him to see when he arrived at work. It was simple, and didn't say much, other than the fact that she missed him and wanted him back home. Unfortunately for her, Ron had to spend the day in the field, and didn't even come to the office. She wouldn't have known that, of course, because he was still staying with George.</p><p>Yesterday, Hermione left even earlier than usual to make a stop at the bakery that Ron loved so much. She bought a chocolate croissant for both herself and Ron, and just like the note, delivered his to his desk that morning. She hoped he'd be in this morning to enjoy it.</p><p>On her lunch break, she received an owl from Ron, which simply told her that he was planning on coming home the next day, and they could discuss everything then. She was unable to work at all, caught up in her anxiety overthinking what Ron could possibly mean by "discuss." What did they even need to discuss?</p><p>Her anxiety grew into guilt and shame for getting angry at him for missing work and not understanding that Fred's birthday would come with a heavy dose of grief for him. That's when she decided to play sick- something she'd never done before, and stay home the next day to make sure Ron would return knowing how much he meant to her.</p><hr/><p>Funny that she was now the one missing work. How irresponsible of her. She couldn't help but feel a little bit like a hypocrite.</p><p>When the oven sounded, she turned back into the kitchen to remove them, and nervously awaited Ron's return.</p><p>She heard the door open and whipped around to see him standing there. He looked miserable. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were messy, and his expression was worn out and exhausted. She wanted to hug him, but didn't know if that would be welcome at the moment. She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a lame sounding "Hi."</p><p>"Hi," he said back, as he dropped his bag to the floor side the door. She hated when he did that, but it wasn't the time. "Rough day. Well, rough week, actually."</p><p>She walked forward to hug him. He wrapped his arms around her, but noted a certain stiffness in his embrace. They still had things to talk about. "I've missed you," she mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm glad you came back."</p><p>"Yeah, well. I missed you too." He pulled away and looked at the table over her shoulder. "What's all this?"</p><p>Hermione pulled away and looked him in the eye. "Because you're mad at me. I wanted to do something nice for you so you'd forgive me."</p><p>"Hermione-"</p><p>"You lied to me about not being able to go to lunch that day. And you didn't see my note, and obviously the chocolate croissant wasn't a big enough gesture-"</p><p>"Hermione please stop."</p><p>She paused and looked up at him with hurt in her eyes. "What?"</p><p>"Just listen. Please."</p><p>Hermione nodded.</p><p>"You didn't need to do any of that. Yeah, I was angry at you, but mostly just hurt that you reprimanded me. I shouldn't have gotten too drunk on a weeknight, and I shouldn't have slept in and missed work, but It was Fred and George's birthday, Hermione. Only the second one since Fred passed and George didn't want to spend it alone."</p><p>Hermione had tears in her eyes by the time he finished. "I realize that now! I do, I just didn't realize it at the time. I just thought you were being-"</p><p>"Irresponsible. I know."</p><p>Hermione nodded.</p><p>"I was Hermione. But guess what, I'm going to be irresponsible every now and then. You'll just have to accept that. I will learn from those times and I don't need you to make me feel worse. I hate it when you do that. It reminds me of being in school when you would reprimand me for breaking rules. As an adult it feels a bit condescending to be honest."</p><p>"I just didn't want you to lose your job."</p><p>"I didn't Hermione. Because unlike you, my boss was very understanding. Harry told him everything."</p><p>She ignored Ron's little jab and pressed on. It would be unproductive to add fuel to to another argument. "But why did you have to stay at George's for a whole week?" Hermione pleaded.</p><p>"Because I knew it would happen again. I am still grieving him, and I will be for a while. This week was very hard on George too, and he needed a brother with him. "</p><p>Hermione nodded. It made so much sense now. "Why could you tell me?"</p><p>"I needed to be with someone who wouldn't judge me for drinking a little too much this week, because I knew it would happen. I know it's not the best way to deal with everything, but having you guilt me about it would only make it worse."</p><p>Hermione flung herself into Ron's arms. "I'm so sorry Ron." His grip on her was tighter now, more secure and loving, which sent a wave of relief down her spine.</p><p>"That's all you needed to say," said Ron, pulling her closer.</p><p>"What was?"</p><p>"Sorry. You just needed to say sorry."</p><p>Hermione pulled out of the hug to press a kiss to his lips. He kissed her back lovingly. .</p><p>When they resurfaced Hermione asked, "So you didn't like my note? Or the Croissant? Or this dinner, for that matter? I even picked up your favorite wine and-"</p><p>"It feels a bit like you're bribing me to forgive you, to be honest," he interrupted.</p><p>Hermione hadn't thought of that. "So you didn't like it?"</p><p>"Oh I did, don't get me wrong. But hearing you admit you were wrong was even better."</p><p>Hermione laughed. "Yeah, well it's harder for me to do that than it is to buy you chocolate and cook you dinner."</p><p>"Exactly. That's why it means so much," he said with another kiss.</p><p>"Well in that case, I guess you don't need the treacle tart I just pulled out of the oven," said Hermione.</p><p>"Well I wouldn't want it to go to waste," he replied, flashing that lopsided grin that Hermione loved so much.</p><p>"Ok, we'll have the treacle tart. But since you've already forgiven me, we don't need the Chudley Cannons tickets…"</p><p>"Hold on… you got tickets?"</p><p>Hermione nodded smiling.</p><p>"For when?"</p><p>"Tomorrow's game."</p><p>Ron beamed. "You really did?"</p><p>"But I wouldn't want you to feel bribed into forgiving me," she said coyly.</p><p>"I take it back," he said, as he passed around her to reach for the envelope on the table. "You can bribe me." Ron opened the envelope and gasped. "Hermione these are fantastic seats."</p><p>"So you still want them?" she said hopefully.</p><p>"Of course I do!" Ron's face fell. "There's just one problem."</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>"I told George I'd spend the day with him tomorrow. I'm so sorry, I really want to go with you."</p><p>"You know what?" said Hermione. "Take George to the game. He could use the distraction."</p><p>"Are you sure?" asked Ron, his face lighting up in excitement.</p><p>'Yes. Tell him I say happy birthday too."</p><p>"Hermione, he's going to love it. Thank you," he told her, pulling her into another hug.</p><p>"It's the least I can do," said Hermione, secretly relieved that she didn't have to go to the Cannons game, and could spend the day tomorrow reading instead. "Take him out for a drink after too, ok? On me."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>Hermione nodded. "I was wrong before."</p><p>Ron smiled and kissed her deeply. "I love hearing you say that," he laughed.</p><p>Hermione laughed too. "Well maybe I should say it more often then," she said as she kissed him again.</p><p>Desperate times call for desperate measures, but sometimes the desperate measure could be as simple as an apology.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Take My Advice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Ron opens up to his brothers about his Insecurities.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Part 1: Getting the Advice</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>"Ron, Ron Ron."</p><p>Charlie collapsed onto the sofa next to Ron, who quickly steadied his glass of mead to keep it from spilling. "Careful!"</p><p>"Oh Ron, you can afford to spill a little. Drinking away your sorrows won't make them go away!"</p><p>"What are you talking about?"</p><p>It was Sunday dinner at the Burrow, and Ron wasn't in the mood for it. Hermione had left for her final year at Hogwarts last week, so this was the first Sunday dinner without her. Ron hated the idea of her being at Hogwarts alone without him. He didn't start Auror training for another two weeks, so he had nothing to do except mope around and imagine all the people Hermione would be meeting at school, now that Ron wasn't there to occupy her attention.</p><p>"I'm talking about you, of course," said Charlie. "You've been in a mood all day. And how many glasses of mead have you had?"</p><p>Ron looked down at his near empty glass. "A few. What's the issue?"</p><p>Charlie shrugged. "What would Granger say?"</p><p>"She's not here, is she?" slurred Ron.</p><p>"Ahhhh," said Charlie knowingly.</p><p>"What's going on?" asked Bill, as he walked over to the pair and sat down in an armchair across from them. "Is Ron missing his girlfriend?"</p><p>"It appears that way."</p><p>At this point, Ron was used to his brothers taking the mickey out of him. They spent the whole summer poking fun at the new developments in Ron and Hermione's relationship, as they awkwardly progressed past friendship. Ron was used to the winks from Bill when he would hold Hermione's hand at the table, and the wolf-whistles from Charlie and George when he would steal a kiss. Over the summer he didn't mind their little jabs because being with Hermione made him feel extra confident.</p><p>But it was different now that she was gone, and he knew his brothers noticed a real change in his demeanor. Bill caught on that Ron was not laughing and stopped, leaning toward him. "Ron, really, are you ok?"</p><p>He nodded, although it was a white lie. "Mmm fine."</p><p>Bill saw right through it. "I don't believe you. What's wrong?"</p><p>Ron looked up at his brothers, and then around the room. The three of them were alone in the living room, and Charlie and Bill were both looking at him with concern in their eyes. Ron sighed. "I'm worried Hermione's going to meet someone else," he said, attempting to steady his voice.</p><p>Charlie and Bill looked at him with wide eyes. Bill opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a loud laugh from behind Ron.</p><p>George had entered the room and heard Ron's statement. "I'm sorry, you're worried Hermione's going to meet someone else?"</p><p>Ron whipped around to look at George. He shrugged. "Yeah, I am."</p><p>Charlie and Bill sniggered as George sat down in the armchair next to Bill. "Well, Ron, take it from someone who got to witness the pair of you growing up. Hermione will meet a lot of people, but you're the only one she has eyes for." He winked as he took another sip of his drink. "No one gets her knickers in a twist like you do."</p><p>"George, don't be crass," said Bill with a glare toward his brother, but Charlie nodded.</p><p>"No, he's right. Ron's got a hold on that girl. Didn't she date Viktor Krum to make him jealous?"</p><p>Ron felt his face boil warmer when Viktor's name came into conversation.</p><p>"Oooh, I wouldn't mention that around him!" said George warningly.</p><p>"But it's true, though, isn't it?" continued Charlie. "She turned down a professional athlete for you."</p><p>The reminders of Viktor didn't do much to make Ron feel better. Ron looked up at his brothers, and noticed that Bill was watching him empathetically.</p><p>"You love her, don't you?" he asked.</p><p>Both George and Charlie stopped their chatter, and looked intently at Ron. He nodded. He expected another snicker or two from his brothers but they didn't come.</p><p>"Have you told her that?" It was George asking, looking serious.</p><p>Ron shook his head. "I was going to before she left, but I couldn't. Was worried she wouldn't say it back."</p><p>This time all three of them laughed, which made Ron's face burn hotter.</p><p>"I'm sorry, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," said Bill.</p><p>"Right?" said George. "She's been in love with you since your fourth year, at least,"</p><p>Ron simply shrugged. "You don't know that."</p><p>"Ron," said Bill. "Why don't you think she'll say it back?"</p><p>All he could do was shrug again.</p><p>"Do you really think there's a chance she doesn't love you."</p><p>Ron took a deep sip of his mead, finishing it off before nodding.</p><p>The three brothers exchanged a look.</p><p>"Ok, let's set it straight," said George. "You two fight like dragons, but have still been glued at the hip for seven years. That says something."</p><p>Charlie piped in. "And she can't take her eyes off of you when you're both here."</p><p>"Also, you saved her life," said Bill. "And she forgave you, remember that."</p><p>"Forgave you? What do you mean?" asked Charlie, looking between Bill and Ron. But Bill didn't answer. Instead, him and Ron exchanged a look of understanding.</p><p>"She loves you," said Bill. "It's clear to everyone else."</p><p>There was a pause as Ron digested Bill's words.</p><p>"Take my advice," continued Bill. "Tell her sooner rather than later."</p><p>Ron nodded, feeling his face cool down, finally. Bill was right.</p><p>"Yeah," said George. "That way you can cheer up, and we can start taking the mickey out of you again."</p><p>"Seriously," said Charlie. "You've been quite the buzzkill today."</p><p>"Well, maybe Hermione's into that," said George, "Who knows?"</p><p>When Charlie and George laughed again, Ron realized the tender moment had passed.</p><p>The remaining members of the Weasley family were spilling back into the living room, and George and Charlie became absorbed into other conversations. Bill sent a knowing glance at Ron before rejoining his wife, and Ron couldn't help but smile a little. He was right, as usual. Ron needed to tell Hermione how he felt.</p><hr/><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Part 2: Taking the Advice</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>Ron was deep into an afternoon nap when Pigwidgeon tapped his beak on his bedroom window, jolting him awake. Tied to his ankle was a letter, which sent Ron's heart racing. He had just owled Professor McGonagall to ask her for a special favor. Hermione's birthday was next week, and he wanted to surprise her with a visit. Former students weren't typically allowed on the Hogwarts grounds, but Ron figured she might be willing to make an exception on the Head Girl's birthday.</p><p>Ron groggily made his way over to the window, letting Pigwidgeon in, who promptly landed on the windowsill and held up his leg. Ron untied the letter and Pigwidgeon collapsed into a sleepy pile on his desk.</p><p>He tore open the letter to reveal McGonagall's elegant handwriting.</p><p>
  <em>Mr. Weasley,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I understand that you would like to visit Miss Granger on the evening of September 19th. I hope you understand that I don't typically allow former students to visit the grounds, for any reason.</em>
</p><p>Ron's heart sank. But he kept reading.</p><p>
  <em>However, given that you have proven yourself responsible and Miss Granger is in desperate need of an evening off, I will grant your permission this one time. My floo will open at three o'clock in the afternoon on September 19th. Please arrive promptly. Assuming you don't wish to return until the 20th, plan accordingly for an overnight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Regards,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Professor McGonagall</em>
</p><p>Ron stared wide-eyed at the letter, as a grin started to form on his face. This was more than he had asked for.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>September 19th</strong>
</p><hr/><p>Hermione collapsed onto her bed in the Head Girls' quarters after a long day of studying for her NEWTS. It was only three o'clock in the afternoon, and she was already exhausted. She didn't have the same distractions that she was used to at Hogwarts, so she spent all of her time revising. She had assumed that her time at Hogwarts without Ron and Harry would be more productive, but she was finding the opposite to be true. She couldn't focus when she missed them so much, and she wished for their distraction more than anything.</p><p>She buried her face into her pillow as hot tears began to sting her eyes. Everyday, she willed herself not to think of Ron, but everytime she came back to her room alone, she couldn't help but miss him even more. It seemed that her loneliness became stronger each day, and it had only been three weeks since she last saw him. She wondered if it felt the same for him.</p><p>They left each other at the train station on September 1st after a thoroughly non-verbal goodbye. She blushed when she remembered him kissing her passionately on platform 9 ¾ without a care in the world to those around them. She smiled at the memory of Harry protesting their public display of affection, lovingly of course. "<em>Oi, there's a train about to leave here!"</em> As much as she enjoyed the time they spent not talking, there was just one thing she regretted not telling him.</p><p>Ron deserved to know how she felt, but how could she tell him now? It's not something that you could say in a letter for the first time. If only there was a way to see him.</p><p>Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. Confused, Hermione wiped her eyes and stood up from her place on the bed. She knew the castle's security was foolproof, but just in case grabbed her wand before opening the door.</p><p>Her jaw dropped when Ron's face appeared on the other side, grinning his lopsided smile.</p><p>"Hi," he said excitedly.</p><p>Hermione was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out.</p><p>"Happy Birthday!" he continued, opening his arms for a hug.</p><p>Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion, and held her wand up to his chin. Paranoia from the war was still persisting, and it was better to be safe than sorry. "What did you say to make me kiss you for the first time?"</p><p>Ron smiled. "Some rubbish about saving house elves."</p><p>It was an annoying answer, but that simply meant it truly was him. Hermione beamed and collapsed into his arms. "I missed you so much!"</p><p>"I missed you too," he said as he kissed her forehead.</p><p>"What are you doing here? How did you even get here?"</p><p>Ron pulled away from the hug and followed her lead further into her bedroom. He went immediately toward the bed and collapsed onto it. "I'm here for your birthday! McGonagall said I could come. Arrived in her fireplace just a few minutes ago."</p><p>She fell onto the place next to him on the bed, and he responded by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She felt her eyes sting with tears again, but this time they were happy ones. "So she knows you're here?"</p><p>Ron nodded, before pulling her face toward his for a kiss. She responded enthusiastically, reaching her hands into his hair and gently parting her lips for him. They stayed there, kissing tenderly and enjoying the familiarity of each other for a few moments before Hermione pulled away.</p><p>"How long do you have?"</p><p>"All night," he said with a grin.</p><p>"All night," she repeated with wide eyes. "McGonagall said you could stay here?"</p><p>Ron nodded. "Well, she didn't explicitly say it, but she didn't insist otherwise…," he said before pulling her back in for another kiss. This time, he slipped his hands underneath her skirt and gripped her thighs, guiding one of her legs across his hips so she straddled him. She reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. He responded enthusiastically, and began to work the rest of her clothing off while she undid his trousers. She had so much she wanted to say to him, but it could wait for now.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Later that evening…</strong>
</p><hr/><p>Ron and Hermione were lying in her bed in the Head Girl's quarters. She was curled up against him, starkers, just how he liked it. He smiled down at her as he tangled his fingers into her hair. "I missed this."</p><p>She raised her eyebrows. "My crazy hair?"</p><p>"Well, more specifically, lying naked in bed with you. But now that you mention it, yeah," he replied, twirling her curls around his fingers. "I missed your hair."</p><p>"I hate my hair," she said with a frown. "Too wild."</p><p>He smiled. "That's why I love it."</p><p>"You love my hair?"</p><p>Ron nodded. "Mmmhmm. I do," he mumbled.</p><p>She rolled her eyes before resting her head back on his chest. He continued to play with her hair, enjoying the challenge of trying to tame each strand, knowing he never would. He couldn't help but draw a connection between her hair and her wild and somewhat unpredictable personality, which he also loved.</p><p>"I love it because it's wild. It can't be contained."</p><p>Hermione turned her face up to his and smiled.</p><p>"It has so much personality. It does what it wants," he continued.</p><p>She laughed softly and buried her face back into his chest.</p><p>Ron was blushing now. "You keep trying to fight it, but there's no point. In the end it's going to win."</p><p>He felt her arms tighten around him, and his face heated up more. It was time to do what he came here to do.</p><p>"The more you try to keep it in line, the bigger it gets. It's got a rebellious side. You might as well just accept it and learn to love it like I do."</p><p>Hermione looked up at him curiously. "Are you still talking about my hair?"</p><p>Ron grinned at her. "Well, all of that applies to your hair, don't get me wrong. And I do love your hair…," he felt his stomach tighten in nerves. What if she didn't say it back? "But I'm mostly talking about you."</p><p>Hermione's eyes began to water with tears, and Ron reached toward her face to wipe one way. "You-," she started, but was interrupted.</p><p>"I love you, Hermione. 'Bout time you knew that."</p><p>She beamed, and another tear fell down her face. "I love you too," she said before pulling Ron's lips back down to hers.</p><p>He smiled through the kiss, blushing harder than ever. His brothers were right, she loved him too. How lucky he was, he thought, before shifting position so he was on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his hips to pull him close to her, and he felt himself grow harder as she pressed against him. Based on the enthusiasm of her response, she didn't mind at all.</p><p>Ron was overwhelmed with gratitude. The girl of his dreams loved him back, and he had the whole night to celebrate that fact. "Happy Birthday, Love," he whispered in her ear.</p><p>"Best birthday present, ever," she replied, before pulling him back to her for a thoroughly non-verbal celebration.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Coming Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Ron comes home from an Auror mission, and the lets the kids play with his patronus</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As soon as I arrived back home, I was nearly tackled right back onto the fireplace. Four tiny arms wrapped around my hips and legs. I was defeated, and immobilized. Just where I wanted to be. </p><p>“Daddy!”</p><p>I spent the last week away on an Auror trip, and I hadn’t gotten a full night's sleep in six days, nor had I had access to regular meals. It reminded me way too much of the war, and I was bloody well ready to return to my family, get some sleep, and eat some food. But I forgot all about that when I saw my family. </p><p>“What are you two doing awake?” I reached for Hugo and pulled him up to my hip. I could help but smile when he gave me that toothy lopsided grin that I recognized from my own baby pictures. “It’s late, you should be in bed!”</p><p>“Mummy said we could!” Rosie still had her arms wrapped so tightly around my hips that she was cutting off my circulation, but I didn’t mind. </p><p>“Did she now?” I asked as I crouched down, still holding onto Hugo to return Rosie’s hug. </p><p>“I did,” Hermione then entered the room, beaming at me. She looked exhausted, which is probably why she lost the bedtime battle this evening. Rosie and Hugo could wear anyone down, I knew that well enough. “They were too excited to see their daddy. They really missed you.”</p><p>“I missed them too.” I gave the kids one more squeeze, before lowering Hugo back to his feet and turning to my wife with open arms. “Get over here, Hermione.”</p><p>I met her halfway, enveloping her in my arms. She seemed to melt right into them. “Were they terrible?” I whispered into her hair.</p><p>She laughed. “No, they were wonderful. They just missed you a lot.” She pulled back to look at me, and lovingly brushed my fringe out of my eyes. I loved it when she did that. “As did I.”</p><p>I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. Her grip tightened around my shoulders and I lifted her off her feet. She smiled against my lips. </p><p>“Ewww! Gross!” </p><p>I laughed and slid her back to the floor. “I think it’s time for bed, isn’t it?” I said to the kids. </p><p>“Nooooo!” I knew from experience that if Rosie wasn’t in bed by a certain hour, she would never be. She could stay awake all night if she was determined, and she kept Hugo up too. Unfortunately, Hugo couldn’t maintain the same energy level, he would just get crankier by the hour. </p><p>“Mummy said if we stayed up late, we could play with Sparky!”</p><p>I turned toward Hermione, who was smiling sheepishly. “Did you tell them that?”</p><p>She nodded. “Sorry, I was desperate! And I missed Sparky too…”</p><p>I groaned. I was too tired to produce my terrier patronus now, but I didn’t want to disappoint the kids. “Why, Hermione?” I groaned. </p><p>“Ollie’s not the same! I tried. You can’t give the kids an otter when they’re expecting a puppy,” she said with a shrug. </p><p>I turned to the kids. “I’m sorry, Daddy’s too tired right now---,” I began.</p><p>‘NO!” shrieked Rosie. “Mummy you promised!”</p><p>Rosie began to sob, which prompted Hugo to do the same. I looked back at Hermione, who simply pleaded at me with her eyes. It was the same tactic Rosie used, and both knew I was helpless. </p><p>“Ok, ok. I’ll give it a try!” Rosie and Hugo both ceased crying and excitement washed over their faces. “But go easy on me! I might not be able to keep him around for very long, ok?”</p><p>“Promise!” said Rose. </p><p>“Pwomise,” Hugo repeated.</p><p>“And you have to promise to go to bed right after,” I negotiated. “Deal?”</p><p>Rose and Hugo exchanged a look before subtly nodding at each other. “Deal.”</p><p>My heart swelled with affection for my two incredibly smart little negotiators. and I didn’t have to think too hard about where that trait came from. I looked back at Hermione, who was beaming. <em> Thank you </em>, she mouthed. </p><p>I could pull up the happy memories effortlessly, that’s just how it was these days. I thought hard about those adorable little arms engulfing me in a hug upon my arrival from the fireplace, and their excited shrieks. I recalled their tiny voices calling me “daddy”, a name I now responded to more quickly than “Ron”. I saw Hermione smiling at me, hugging me, and kissing me. </p><p>“Expecto Patronum.” The silver terrier sauntered from my wand into the living room, wagging his tail as he trotted up to the kids. </p><p>“Sparky!” In a sudden burst of energy, Rosie bolted forward toward the holographic puppy, prompting him to chase her. Hugo stumbled behind them, laughing and smiling. </p><p>Turns out I didn’t have to work very hard at all to keep Sparky around. The happiness that fed him was already abundant in the room. </p><p>I was busy watching the kids chasing Sparky around the living room when I felt Hermione slide her hands around my waist. “Thank you,” she said, leaning her head against my shoulder. </p><p>“Of course,” I told her, before pressing a kiss to her temple. “I missed you like crazy.” I placed my arms around her, returning her hug. “I love you so much.”</p><p>“I love you too,” she muttered. Then she looked up at me, raising an eyebrow. “Now really, how tired are you?”</p><p>I laughed. “Depends on why you’re asking.”</p><p>“I think you know why,” she said before placing her lips on mine. I paused waiting for the familiar chorus of disgusted protests from the kids that I came to expect whenever I kissed Hermione in front of them, but they were too distracted by Sparky to notice us. </p><p>I pulled away and smiled down at her. “Maybe Sparky can help us convince the kids to go to bed?” </p><p>She grinned at me. “I think it’s worth a shot,” she said, before pulling me back in for another kiss. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. To Be A Kid Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Summer before 6th year. Ron goes to Ginny's room and finds Hermione sat on the floor giggling while a silver otter is swimming around her. He stays in the doorway watching her playing and petting her patronus because "she just looks so cute". After a while she -and her otter- notices so he -and his terrier- joins in. They ended up talking and laughing and playing with both patrons and having fun and feeling, for one evening at least, that they're first-year-kids again</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ron needed an escape from the neverending chores. The endless cleaning, the stress of wedding preparations, not to mention the dark memory of the previous year was starting to get to him.</p><p>It didn't help that Harry wasn't here yet, and Ron couldn't help but worry about him. He and Hermione hardly had time to write to him, and Ron wanted more than anything to know how he was doing after the Ministry and Siris's death.</p><p>He was on his way to his room, to get a moment of solitude to try and take his mind off of everything when he heard a laugh from behind Ginny's door. Ron paused to listen. It wasn't Ginny's laugh, but Hermione's. It bought a smile to his face as he hadn't heard her laugh in forever.</p><p>The door was ajar, so he approached it and peered inside. Hermione was sitting cross-legged on the floor, smiling at her otter patronus as it swam around the room.</p><p>Ron wanted to join in on the fun too. He pulled his wand out from his pocket and muttered the incantation, Expecto Patronum, while focusing on the joy of seeing Hermione so carefree and present. His silver terrier erupted from his wand, and bolted into the room to chase her otter.</p><p>"Ron!" laughed Hermione, and he followed his terrier into the room. She smiled up at him and motioned for him to sit down next to her.</p><p>Ron lowered himself to the floor by Hermione, and leaned his back against the bed. The pair watched as their patronuses jetted around the room, Ron's terrier jumping and nipping at the otter who swam in circles above the ground.</p><p>"How have you been?" she asked, while watching her otter play.</p><p>"Honestly? I'm sick of this place, and wish I could talk to Harry."</p><p>"I know, me too," she replied.</p><p>The pair smiled and laughed as their patronuses dodged between them. "I was looking for something to get my mind off of everything, and then I saw you in here," said Ron.</p><p>"It's a lot, isn't it? Dealing with everything after the Ministry. Sirius's death." Hermione shuddered.</p><p>"I know. Sometimes I wish we were first years again. Our problems were so manageable."</p><p>"I wish that too." Hermione giggled as Ron's terrier nuzzled up against her leg. "Feels kind of like that now, though, don't you think?" she said as she reached out to pet it.</p><p>"First years who can conjure patronuses? Sure, Hermione," he said.</p><p>"No, first years just having a little bit of childlike fun," she clarified as Ron's terrier bounced away from her. "After this past year, I wish I could be a child again."</p><p>"I know what you mean," he said.</p><p>They sat there for a while, enjoying the simplicity of the moment, before inevitably having to face the business of the Burrow again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Wasted Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Ron and Hermione reminiscent on their years at Hogwarts and telling each other that fifth year was their best year as they spent most of the time together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Can I tell you a secret?"</p><p>Hermione and Ron were walking down the high street of Hogsmeade, hand in hand on a snowy December day. It had been an entire month since they'd last seen each other, and Hermione felt rather lucky that her Hogsmeade weekend lined up with a break in Ron's Auror training.</p><p>Of course!" he replied cheerfully.</p><p>Hermione nodded in the direction of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. "I've always wanted to go on a date there…"</p><p>Ron paused, and tugged gently at her arm as she kept walking. "You did?"</p><p>She turned around to see that he was looking down the road at the tea shop. "Well, kind of!"</p><p>"I thought you said it was stupid…"</p><p>"I know I said that," she shrugged nervously. "But I was just jealous of everyone who got to go. I never had anyone to go with.'</p><p>With a goofy grin, Ron guided her down the road to Madam Puddifoot's. "It's a right of passage. Let's go!"</p><p>With a smile and a blush, she followed him down the road...</p><p>"Harry told me about this place in fifth year," said Ron. They were now seated and a small heart-shaped table, awaiting their orders. "He said his date with Cho here was pretty awkward."</p><p>"It was on Valentine's day, I believe," said Hermione. "I told him to meet me at the Hog's Head for that Quibbler interview. I don't imagine that went over very well."</p><p>"Oh yeah, I remember that," laughed Ron.</p><p>Madam Puddifoot placed a teapot in the center of their table. "Here's your lovers' blend," she said as she gave Ron and Hermione both a pink heart shaped teacup.</p><p>"The handles are fluffy!" he whispered when Madam Puddifoot turned away.</p><p>"How are we supposed to drink out of heart shaped cups?" wondered Hermione as she poured herself some tea. "And I wonder what a 'lover's blend' tastes like, anyway."</p><p>"Yeah," said Ron "I could see how this might have been awkward back in fifth year."</p><p>"Right, especially considering the view," said Hermione nodding her head toward the back of the room where a couple was kissing passionately across the table.</p><p>"Yeah," said Ron, in response to the kissing couple. 'I don't think I was ready to date in fifth year."</p><p>"I know you weren't," smiled Hermione. "If you were, I think something might have happened between us back then. It was a good year for us."</p><p>"You do?" asked Ron. "I mean, I was definitely into you back then, I just didn't think you were."</p><p>"I thought it was pretty obvious!" said Hermione.</p><p>Ron laughed. I know better now, but back then I thought you still liked Krum."</p><p>Hermione shook her head. "No, I liked you, I even tried to hint at it. Constantly, actually."</p><p>"Really, when?" asked Ron skeptically.</p><p>"Mostly on prefect rounds," shrugged Hermione. "We spent so much time together doing those, remember?"</p><p>Ron smiled reminiscently. "I was always pretty disappointed when I was paired with someone else."</p><p>"Same!" said Hermione. "They were never as fun."</p><p>"I was uh.. pretty distracted for most of them."</p><p>Hermione smiled. "I kept thinking about holding your hand. I spent a lot of time wondering how you would react, but never plucked up enough courage to do it."</p><p>"Well I wish you would have," said Ron. "I most definitely would have reacted positively." His face was starting to turn crimson, and he added, "In fact, I spent a lot of time thinking about pulling you into a broom closet and snogging you senseless."</p><p>Hermione nearly choked on her tea as she laughed. "Ron! I thought you just said you wouldn't have been ready for that."</p><p>He smiled. "Oh, I would have been rubbish. That doesn't mean I wasn't tempted..."</p><p>"But...on prefect rounds?"</p><p>"I would have never had the courage to do it," he said. "After all, it took us two more years to admit our feelings for each other."</p><p>Hermione smiled coyly. "Even then, I had to make the first move..."</p><p>"That's true," said Ron. "So much wasted time. I wish I would have known you were into me back then. We really could have started up earlier...,"</p><p>"So you're saying you would have come here with me in fifth year?" asked Hermione. "You'd have been willing to be seen drinking tea out of a heart shaped cup with a fuzzy handle?"</p><p>"Only with you, yes," said Ron, as he reached across the table for her hand. "If it meant not wasting the last two years."</p><p>Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, I don't know if I believe you. But I thank you."</p><p>"I'm really glad we're together now, Hermione."</p><p>"Me too," said Hermione, as she leaned across the table for a kiss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Just Pretending</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Hello, do you know if you can make a Romione fic where they are on rounds? They are just talking and feeling careless, they don't realise that rounds have been over for a few hours.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What should we check next?"</p><p>Ron and Hermione were patrolling the corridors during prefect rounds, and Ron was finding it to be a lot more fun than he originally expected. Hermione seemed to be enjoying herself as well, and Ron wondered if it had more to do with the fact that she had an opportunity to enforce the rules, or the fact that he was making it fun for her. He hoped it was the latter.</p><p>"I guess we should check the classrooms again, make sure that there are no students out of bed," she said, skipping off toward the first classroom she saw.</p><p>The pair entered the classroom to find that it was empty. The room looked quite familiar to Ron. "Hey, isn't this the classroom where we had Defense Against The Dark Arts during second year?"</p><p>Hermione looked around. "Maybe? To be honest, I don't remember the classroom."</p><p>Ron laughed. "That's because you were too busy gawking at Gilderoy Lockhart to notice," he joked.</p><p>Hermione looked affronted. "No I wasn't," she spluttered. "I remember plenty from that class!"</p><p>"Like…," Ron paced around to stand behind the desk. "How fanciable your teacher was?" He did his best to mimic Gilderoy Lockhart by running a hand through his hair, and flipping it back.</p><p>Hermione snorted. "No, I learned quite a bit in that class, actually," she shrugged. "He wasn't a bad teacher."</p><p>"Yes he was," said Ron. "He was rubbish."</p><p>"Well, I retained quite a bit-"</p><p>"You just don't remember properly, because you were so in love with him."</p><p>Hermione scowled. "Ok, maybe. But you just think he was a bad teacher because you were jealous that all the girls fancied him."</p><p>"Ok, maybe," mimicked Ron, grinning. "But I think I would be a better teacher."</p><p>Hermione laughed. "Ok, then, why don't you teach me something?" She sat down excitedly in one of the desks, and gazed up at him expectantly.</p><p>Ron straightened out his shirt and adjusted his prefect badge. "If I'm teaching, I have to look presentable."</p><p>Hermione simply rolled her eyes, before turning her focus back on Ron.</p><p>"Ten points from Gryffindor for rolling your eyes at me."</p><p>"That's not fair-"</p><p>"Ten more points for talking back," he said, pointing a finger at her.</p><p>Hermione kept her mouth closed, though Ron thought he heard a giggle escape.</p><p>"Very well, then. Today, we're going to learn about disarming charms. Does anyone know how to perform a disarming charm?"</p><p>Hermione shot her hand up in the air.</p><p>"Miss Granger!" said Ron, motioning for her to speak with his wand.</p><p>"Expelliarmus!"</p><p>She was incredibly quick, and Ron didn't have time to react before his wand flew out of his hand. "That was brilliant," he said. "Twenty points to Gryffindor!"</p><p>"What can I say, I have a good teacher!" she smiled.</p><p>Ron felt his face heat up at her compliment. "I uh… have a good student!" he said awkwardly. He was relieved when she laughed, breaking the tension.</p><p>The pair continued goofing off in the empty classroom, losing track of time. Hermione took a few turns as the teacher, and Ron was very impressed by her spot-on impression of Professor McGonagall.</p><p>"Mr. Weasley, may I suggest you listen to your friend Hermione Granger, when it comes to homework questions? Her expertise may be of service to you."</p><p>'OK, sure," said Ron, leaning back with his feet up on the table. "I could see her saying that. Maybe not as arrogantly, though," he added. Hermione laughed.</p><p>Ron's Snape impression left something to be desired.</p><p>"Granger, I see you've managed to memorize the entire textbook," he snarled. He had pulled his hair over his eyes and spoke in a monotone. "Next time, get a life, and stop being such an insufferable know-it-all."</p><p>Hermione pressed her hand to mouth to muffle her laughter.</p><p>Her attempt at Umbridge was scarily accurate.</p><p>"Ronald Weasley, we don't tell lies in this classroom. Maybe an evening with me in my office would serve as a good reminder," she said brightly. "You, me, veritaserum and my blood quill will be…," she placed her wand under his chin, "best friends."</p><p>He shuddered. "You terrify me."</p><p>"Good!" she said cheerily, taking her place behind the desk "Who next?"</p><p>"What about Harry?"</p><p>"Oh of course!" said Hermione. "You be Harry, and I'll be Cho."</p><p>"Um… ok then," said Ron nervously, as his face brightened in it's crimson shade.</p><p>Hermione laughed. "Harry, can you help me with this disarming charm? I'm not sure I'm holding my wand correctly."</p><p>Ron gulped. "Yeah, well," he said as he approached her. "Try it like this." Ron slipped his hands around her and placed them over her own, aiming her wand away from them. She leaned back against him, and he felt her bushy hair pressing into his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. He rested his chin comfortably against the side of her head, trying to calm his breathing as she could very likely hear it. He'd never hugged her quite like this, and it caused his heart rate to spike, and his ears to burn red. He wondered if she could feel those things too.</p><p>"You're good at this," she whispered.</p><p>"Erm, good at what?"</p><p>"Being Harry," she said. "You know, pretending to be all nervous around me. It's pretty convincing."</p><p>"Oh, right," said Ron. They were <em>just pretending</em>, of course.</p><p>At that moment the door abruptly opened, causing Ron and Hermione to jump apart. They turned toward the entrance to see Professor McGonagall standing there.</p><p>"Granger, Weasley, what are you two doing in the corridors?"</p><p>"Er, we were just-,' stammered Ron.</p><p>"Finishing prefect rounds!" interrupted Hermione. "We were on duty tonight."</p><p>"Granger, rounds were supposed to end an hour ago," said McGonagall sternly. "Both of you should be back in your common room by now."</p><p>Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance. They hadn't realized how long it had been.</p><p>"Sorry, Professor!" said Hermione, as she started to shuffle toward the door. "Ron, we should go."</p><p>"Yeah, sorry Professor," added Ron, as he followed Hermione out the door. With one glance back at McGonagall, he thought he caught a smirk on her face, but he couldn't be sure.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Hanky Panky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Can you do 'Just Pretending' from McGonagall's point of view?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Professor McGonagall typically made a final round once the prefects were done, just to make sure they didn't miss anything. Sometimes she found a Ravenclaw studying in an empty classroom, a pair of Hufflepuffs smuggling biscuits from the kitchen, or a young inter-house couple hiding in the shadows of the hallways, attempting to avoid the patrolling prefects so they could enjoy some after-hours cavorting. When McGonagall would stumble upon them, she could simply clear her throat and send them a stern look, and their special moment would end abruptly, or at least be delayed until the next night.</p><p>Occasionally she came across one of her very own prefects causing mischief after hours. As disappointing as this could be, she had once been a teenager herself, so she would turn a blind eye for the first offense, offer a stiff talking-to on the second, and very rarely was there a third.</p><p>When she heard voices coming from an empty classroom on the third floor, she decided to investigate. They weren't exactly quiet, and as she got closer, their cackling laughter echoed down the hallway. It appeared that the culprits didn't even care that it was after hours. McGonagall briefly wondered why the prefects hadn't caught them, before she realized who was on prefect duty that night- Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. She smiled. Of course they were distracted.</p><p>As she approached the source, the voices became even louder and clearer. She would recognize those voices anywhere. Maybe it had been a mistake to pair Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley together for prefect rounds. She had a fondness for both of them, and they really did work well together, but they could distract each other far too easily.</p><p>Before she entered the classroom, something made her pause. She peered in through the crack of the doorway to see Hermione standing at the front of the classroom, while Ron shook with laughter at a nearby desk.</p><p>"Mr. Weasley, may I suggest you listen to your friend Hermione Granger, when it comes to homework questions? Her expertise may be of service to you."</p><p>She said it confidently and sternly, a manner very familiar to McGonagall. It almost sounded like Hermione was doing an impression of her. She waited, curious to hear more.</p><p>'OK, sure," said Ron, as he leaned back. He stacked his feet on the desk in front of him. "I could see her saying that. Maybe not as arrogantly, though," he added, making Hermione laugh.</p><p>Professor McGonagall smiled at Ron's addition, thankful that he didn't mistake her commanding demeanor for arrogance.. If Miss Granger truly cared about an accurate impression, she would have told Mr. Weasley to take his feet off of the desk.</p><p>She was about to press her way into the room, but when the pair switched places and Ron started pulling his hair over his face, she hesitated. She wanted to see this...</p><p>"Granger, I see you've managed to memorize the entire textbook," he snarled in a monotone. "Next time, get a life, and stop being such an insufferable know-it-all."</p><p>McGonagall smiled. It was a pretty accurate impression of Severus, and it reminded her that they were overdue for another discussion about calling students names.</p><p>McGonagall shuddered at Hermione's deeply concerning impression of Dolores.</p><p>"Ronald Weasley, we don't tell lies in this classroom. Maybe an evening with me in my office would serve as a good reminder," she said brightly. "You, me, veritaserum and my blood quill will be…," McGonagall raised an eyebrow as Hermione shoved her wand under Ron's chin, "best friends."</p><p>Dolores is not fit to be teaching here, she thought. And what does she mean by blood quill? McGonagall made a mental note to investigate further.</p><p>She decided to officially break up the fun when they attempted a rather awkward impression of Harry Potter and Cho Chang. She opened the door when Ron stood behind Hermione, wrapping his arms around her while his face turned beet red. She'd been a teenager before, after all, and she knew where this could lead.</p><p>She pushed through the door, and the pair jolted apart. "Granger, Weasley, what are you two doing in the corridors?"</p><p>"Er, we were just-,' stammered Ron.</p><p>"Finishing prefect rounds!" interrupted Hermione. "We were on duty tonight."</p><p>Oh, I know, thought McGonagall. How cute that they lost track of time. "Granger, rounds were supposed to end an hour ago," she said sternly. "Both of you should be back in your common room by now."</p><p>They exchanged a surprised glance, clearly taken aback by the time.</p><p>"Sorry, Professor!" said Hermione, as she started to shuffle toward the door. "Ron, we should go."</p><p>"Yeah, sorry Professor,"</p><p>She smiled as they shuffled away. They could use some fun, so he was happy they found opportunity during rounds. However, she still needed to keep an eye on them. While she could tolerate some occasional, innocent fun on prefect rounds, she wouldn't stand for any hanky panky.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Something To Remember</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>For this fic I combined two tumblr prompts:</p><p>Prompt 1: May I inconvenience you in asking you to write a fic where Ron and Hermione are at the Burrow for Sunday lunch? Ron keeps teasing Hermione at the table, running his large, strong hand up her thigh and then even further... Maybe Harry and Ginny notice.</p><p>#smutty</p><p>Please and thank you.</p><p>-and-</p><p>Prompt 2: Can you write a ficlet about Ron asking his brothers for bedroom advice?</p><p>SMUT WARNING! Move along if that's not your thing.</p>
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    <p>
  <strong>Shell Cottage, July 1998</strong>
</p><p>"Have another beer, Ron."</p><p>Bill passed me an ice cold butterbeer before grabbing one himself and sitting down next to me. It was a beautiful night out at Shell Cottage, and the ocean air added a crisp and calming effect. I felt myself relax into the wicker chair as George took the seat across from me.</p><p>"These hit me harder than they used to," I said, enjoying the slight buzz that had appeared after my first butterbeer.</p><p>"Same with me," said George.</p><p>"It's been too long since any of us have had some real fun," added Bill.</p><p>The summer had been an interesting one. Mourning Fred was taking its toll, but there were plenty of lighthearted moments as well. Knowing the war was over and being able to plan for the future brought a sense of fulfillment into my life. That and exploring my evolving relationship with Hermione. I let my mind wander there, and must have had a goofy expression on my face because George interrupted me.</p><p>"Ronniekins has been having a different kind of fun, though."</p><p>I felt my face heat up and looked between Bill and George. Both were smiling at me, ready to make fun of me if the moment called for it. "Not sure what you mean, George."</p><p>George laughed. "I think you do." He took a long chug of his butterbeer, then added, "You and Hermione seem awfully happy together. How's that going?"</p><p>"Erm- It's been going well, I think. We haven't really gotten a lot of time alone." I took another sip of my butterbeer, with the hope that they would move onto another topic, but they didn't. Both George and Bill were staring at me intently, waiting for me to elaborate. "So um… our relationship hasn't progressed as far as I would like it to. Physically."</p><p>"Ahh," said Bill. "I was wondering when this would come up."</p><p>"Right?" said George. "Finally something we can help him with."</p><p>As much as this conversation embarrassed me to my core, I conceded. I really could use some advice. "Ok, if you're willing to pass on your wisdom, I'll take it."</p><p>Bill and George exchanged a look, and smiled. "Well what do you want to know?"</p><p>I swallowed my pride. "She's going back to Hogwarts in September, and I would like to give her something to remember me by."</p><p>"Right on," said George.</p><p>"The only issue is, since her parents came back, we no longer have any time to ourselves. I'm worried we won't get a chance.."</p><p>Both George and Bill nodded in understanding. "Well, we both know a little something about never having time alone, and the problems that can cause," said Bill.</p><p>"How do you work around it?" I asked awkwardly.</p><p>George and Gill exchanged a glance. "You don't <em>really</em> need time alone."</p><p>"I think Hermione would prefer it that way," I said, slightly confused.</p><p>"You'd be surprised," said Bill, raising his eyebrows.</p><p>"Say, you're at a gathering, such as, I don't know… Sunday dinner at the Burrow," said George.</p><p>"Sure.."</p><p>"You can find pockets of privacy. You know, when others are distracted."</p><p>I sighed. "Again, I don't think Hermione would be very into that."</p><p>"How would you know?"</p><p>I shrugged. "I guess I wouldn't."</p><p>"Exactly," said George. "Here's what you do- you'll need to test the waters. Gauge her interest. Start with some mild physical affection, and gently turn the dial up. You might be surprised what you learn."</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>The Burrow, August 1998</strong>
</p><p>It was the last Sunday dinner before Hermione left for Hogwarts, and my brothers' advice was still churning around in my mind. We were all seated at the dinner table, feasting away, and the conversation, along with butterbeer, was flowing. But I couldn't focus on any of it because all of my attention was on Hermione next to me.</p><p>It was a blistering August day, and thank Merlin for it, because she was wearing a thin vest, and a skirt that moved enticingly with any little breeze.</p><p>However, I did notice a few glances from George and Bill across the table. They hadn't forgotten our conversation, and likely knew exactly what I was thinking. I glanced around the table to see that everyone was occupied by either the conversation, or the delicious food, and figured they wouldn't be concerned with my randy self.</p><p>I let my gaze wander down to Hermione's leg, right where her skirt had hitched up to reveal her smooth and tanned thigh. I slipped my hand below the table and gently caressed her leg. Just above the thigh, innocently of course, if it needed to be.</p><p>I felt her thigh muscle tighten under my touch. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her biting her lip, before I felt her leg relax. Her face broke into a very slight grin, if I wasn't looking for it I wouldn't have even noticed.</p><p>I slowly slid my hand higher, and she didn't tense up this time. Instead, she shifted her leg towards mine, so her knee pressed against my own leg. With that new position, I had better access, so I let my hand wander toward the inside of her leg, until I felt my fingers grace her knickers. She let out a breath of air in surprise, but again, I didn't feel her resistance and saw that she was still grinning slightly. She kept pressing her leg against mine and casually took another bite of food. I could have sworn she let her fork linger in her mouth a little longer than necessary, but I might have been imagining that.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Shell Cottage, July 1998</strong>
</p><p>"If you get a signal," said Bill, "and you'll know if it's a signal, you'll have to show her what you want."</p><p>I narrowed my eyes in confusion. "Show her what I want? Isn't it obvious?"</p><p>"To you, yes," said George. "But don't assume it's obvious to her."</p><p>"Especially for you two," added Bill. "You spent quite a bit of time dancing around your feelings for eachother. Miscommunicating. Hoping the other one would read your mind-"</p><p>"Ok, ok, I get it," I said. I didn't really need to be reminded of how much time I wasted, especially since I only had a little bit left before we were separated again.</p><p>"What I'm saying is, show her what you want, and be obvious about it. More obvious than you think you need to be."</p><p>"Then, you won't be so worried about privacy," said George. "I wouldn't be surprised if privacy was suddenly easy to come by, once you got over your uncertainties about what the other wants."</p><p>"Hmm," I said, sipping my butterbeer again. "I could give that a try."</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>The Burrow, August 1998</strong>
</p><p>My hand was still casually resting against her inner thigh, fingers brushing against her knickers, and she was eating her food as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Her leg pressed against mine, an invitation for me to be there. It was time to show her I wanted her too.</p><p>I slowly removed my hand from between her legs, making sure to let them linger, feeling as much of her skin as I could get away with.</p><p>I reached my hand around her wrist, and gently pulled her hand across my own leg, guiding it to the bulge in my trousers where my attraction for her was a bit more obvious. I left her hand there as I put my arm around her shoulders. She leaned in toward me, her head resting on my shoulder, but her hand stayed right where I left it. Above the table, we were just a cute, affectionate couple, classy in every way. But below, where no one else could see, she had her hand on my rock hard erection, and was beginning to gently caress me through my trousers. I looked up across the table. My face was probably boiling red, and Hermione's nonchalance about the whole situation wasn't making it any easier for me to contain my desire for her.</p><p>It was when I accidently locked eyes with Harry, when I felt a sudden pang of embarrassment. Something about his stare told me he saw right through our innocent charade. I didn't want to think about how, or why he could see through it so easily, but I was grateful when Bill, who noticed our exchange, distracted him by engaging him in conversation.</p><p>Thankfully it wasn't my only opportunity to show Hermione what I was after. After dinner, we were helping Mum to clean up and I snuck up behind her while she was drying a dish. I wrapped my arms around her waist, and pressed my hips up against her bum, and I knew she could feel me, because she leaned into me almost strategically, so that her backside pressed even more firmly against me. I pressed a kiss to her neck, and she responded by tipping her head to the side, and sliding her hand around my face and into my hair.</p><p>We broke apart when someone cleared her throat behind use, and I turned my head around to find Ginny looking at me with raised eyebrows. I knew I was blushing, but I didn't care, leaving a kiss on Hermione's cheek before exiting the room.</p><p>When the dishes were done, I found myself sitting next to her on the sofa. There was no table to obscure anyone's view of our hands, so we didn't risk it. But as we sat there, legs pressing together, my arm around her shoulders, and her head resting against mine, we both were very aware of what each other wanted.</p><p>If our minds were in the same place, and I hoped they were, we wouldn't need to be truly alone. George was right- we would just need a <em>pocket of privacy.</em></p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Shell Cottage, July 1998</strong>
</p><p>"I have a question for you, Ron."</p><p>I glanced over at George. "Yeah?"</p><p>"You mentioned that you don't get a lot of time alone together," he started.</p><p>"True, we don't. At least not anymore."</p><p>"But you used to?"</p><p>"Yeah, well, in Australia, and a few times before that."</p><p>George nodded.</p><p>"But since then, we really haven't been alone together."</p><p>George reached for another bottle of butterbeer and offered it to me. I obliged, and he pulled another for himself. "Do you mind telling us how far you've gone?" He popped open the cork and took another sip.</p><p>"Well, in Australia we moved further than snogging, but not… all the way, if that makes sense."</p><p>'It makes sense," said Bill. "But it's vague. Have you seen her naked?"</p><p>"Not completely, no."</p><p>"Has she seen you naked?"</p><p>"Again, not completely, but-"</p><p>"She's seen you without your trousers?"</p><p>I nodded.</p><p>"Tossed you off?" asked George.</p><p>I nodded once before throwing back another sip of butterbeer, hoping that my face wasn't too red.</p><p>"And have you seen her without her knickers?"</p><p>I hesitated before responding, not wanting to embarrass myself. "Seen? No. Felt? Yes."</p><p>"OK ok," said George. "I'm just trying to figure out what an appropriate next step would be. You don't want to push her, but you want to make it memorable. Did you get her off?"</p><p>I sighed, my face boiling red now. "No, I didn't."</p><p>"Ahh," said Bill. He exchanged another meaningful glance with George. "Use your mouth."</p><p>"Do you think she would like that?"</p><p>"I've yet to meet a girl who doesn't," he responded.</p><p>I threw back the rest of my butterbeer, in an effort to hide my blush, and the fact that the thought of tasting Hermione was overwhelming me in a very good way.</p><p>"And little brother?" said George. "Don't worry about yourself. Remember, you're trying to give her something to remember you by. Focus on that."</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>The Burrow, August 1998</strong>
</p><p>Eventually, everyone at the Burrow began to wander around the house and the grounds dispersing into their own conversations. We weren't completely alone, but we were alone enough.</p><p>When I exchanged a glance with Hermione, her hungry expression told me all I needed to know to reach for her hand and pull her toward the door.</p><p>"Where are we going?" she asked.</p><p>"Outside," I told her. It seemed safe to assume the 'why' was rhetorical.</p><p>I guided her outside, past the garden and the firepit in which Bill, George, Harry and Ginny were settled, throwing back butterbeers like they did with me not too long ago. They didn't even seem to notice us pass them, or at least if they did, Bill and George made quick work of keeping their company occupied and distracted.</p><p>We approached the garden shed, and Hermione reached for the doors, but I tugged her away from them, pulling her around the outside of the shed to the back. After all, the shed was dark and musty, which wouldn't make for a very memorable experience.</p><p>When we reached the far wall of the shed, I cast a quick silencing charm, and turned to face her before placing my hands on her hips, guiding her back to the wall. I caught her lips with mine, and slid my hips up against her, pinning her to the wall. I felt her lips open for me and I let my tongue wander gently into her mouth as my hands slipped a little lower on her hips.</p><p>"Ron..," she muttered through the kiss. "Someone could see us."</p><p>Before capturing her lips again, I whispered to her, "but I want to see you."</p><p>I laid my forehead against hers and she smiled nervously up at me. "Ok then," she said.</p><p>As I leaned back in for another kiss, this time guiding her lips open with my own, I slid my tongue back into her mouth. I felt myself growing harder in my trousers and pressed my hips up against her so she could feel it too. I knew she did when I felt her smiling softly against my lips.</p><p>Reluctantly, I broke the kiss to trail my lips down the side of her neck, and she let her head fall to the side to allow more space for me to kiss her. I found a tender spot and latched on, gently pressing my teeth to her skin. She moaned contentedly, and I felt the vibration of her voice rattle her throat as her fingers slid to the back of my head to grip my hair as she pulled my mouth deeper into her neck.</p><p>Brushing my tongue against her skin, I let one hand wander up underneath her vest, until my fingers slipped over the lace of her bra. I gently caressed her breast while listening to her breathing quicken. I lingered there, gently sucking at her neck, until I felt her relax even more underneath me.</p><p>"I want to taste you," I asked, when I removed my mouth from her neck. I looked her in the eye, raising my eyebrows for permission.</p><p>She smiled nervously and nodded her consent, so I continued on my way, letting go of her breast as I lowered myself to my knees to slip my hands underneath the hem of her skirt. I ran my hands firmly up the outside of her smooth legs, relishing in what a privilege it was to be here, to be so trusted, before hooking my fingers over the edges of her knickers. I felt her legs tremble in anticipation as I slid her knickers down her legs.. When she stepped one foot out, I caught it and pulled it over my shoulder so her inner thigh pressed against my cheek, duckiing my head underneath her skirt.</p><p>My breath caught in my throat, and I was overwhelmed by her closeness, yet not truly satisfied. I was simply hungry for even more contact. I wanted to pioneer new territory, and touch her in a way no one had ever done before. I worked my hand from her thigh to between her legs, and I could hear her muffled gasp as my fingers slipped inside her. I gently rested my thumb against the soft bundle of nerves just below where her lips met, circling it teasingly, as her breathing became heavier. Her thigh trembled against my face, and I heard myself groan as my fingers began to move more swiftly when her body adjusted to my touch, becoming wetter, warmer, and smoother. She was dripping down my fingers like condensation melting in the summer heat, and I was lost in my desire to taste her. I slid my fingers out of her and slipped them into my mouth, groaning as her taste overwhelmed me. She was the most delicious thing I'd ever experienced, and so very uniquely Hermione.</p><p>"You taste so fucking good," I said hungrily, quietly enough that she might not have even heard me. But I reckoned she did, because her response was to hook her leg around my head, and guide my face closer to her. I couldn't help but crack a smile before my lips met hers and I kissed her just as passionately as I did that first time in the Room of Requirement.</p><p>The simple closeness of her, and the intimacy and trust it required nearly sent me over the edge. Not to mention the mouthwatering taste of her made my erection grow, throbbing with my attraction for her. I opened my mouth and slid my tongue across her clit, as an enticing moan escaped her lips. Dragging my lips lower, my tongue pressed further between her legs, resting at her opening. I let my nose settle against the soft bundle of nerves above, inhaling her scent as I continued to taste her, sliding my tongue inside her. I ran my hands toward her center, where my mouth met her, and hooked my fingers around her lips. She gasped as I gently guided her lips open, so I could get even deeper, tasting more of her.</p><p>"Oh my god, Ron."</p><p>I smiled into her as she pressed her hips firmly to my face, and shifted her leg to the side to give me more access. I dragged my tongue slowly back up to her clit, running it gently from side to side, taking my time before closing my lips again over her mound and sucking gently. Each suck was met with a thrust from her hips, gaining force and confidence as pleasure began to overtake her. I met her pacing, even as it quickened. Her hand wrapped around my head and her fingers tangled into my hair as she pulled me closer, and she tightened her leg around my face. I couldn't move away from her, but I also couldn't imagine a world where I would want to.</p><p>"Ron, I'm going to-"</p><p>She tangled her fingers more firmly into my hair, and pressed herself against my mouth. With one hand I gripped her thigh tighter as her legs trembled beneath my touch, and I slid my other hand deeper into her. I felt her muscles throb around me, gripping and releasing my fingers as her breathing turned into a pant. She exhaled breathy, taunting gasps as she grew closer to release. I opened my mouth even wider and hungrily ran my tongue up and down her center while listening to her panting and moaning, her voice vibrating under my mouth as I hummed contentedly against her.</p><p>My face was dripping with her. I continued working my mouth, pulling her hips against my face, sucking, licking, inhaling, and tasting her. My cock throbbed in my trousers when she let out a high pitched, breathy, satisfying scream, a sound I had only ever heard in my fantasies. She had completely lost herself in her pleasure, as it was a sound I would have never guessed she'd make outside at the Burrow, and I thanked myself for having the forethought to cast a quick muffliato charm earlier. Her body tightened around my fingers, and her leg was wrapped securely around my face as she jetted her hips up against my mouth. I moaned as my mouth watered, filling with her taste, and I felt her wetness trickle down my cheeks when she finally relaxed, breathing heavily, her hips moving up and down with each inhale and exhale. For a moment I wished I could see her face and watch her expression change as she unraveled and recovered, but I couldn't bring myself to move my mouth away from her.</p><p>"Ron," she breathed. "Fuck."</p><p>Her breathing steadied, but I kept my mouth on her, gently caressing her with my tongue until I felt her regain the support of her leg and loosen her grip in my hair. I pressed a final kiss to her clit as she shuddered against me, before guiding her leg off of my shoulder. Reluctantly, I removed my head from her skirt, trailing a line of kisses down her thigh so she had no doubt in her mind about how much I wish I could stay right there. In fact, I hoped I had left no doubt how much I wished she could stay right here too. Screw going back to Hogwarts, I could just do this to her everyday instead. I pulled myself to my feet, meeting her gaze as I wrapped my arms around her waist and landed my forehead on hers.</p><p>"Merlin," she said.</p><p>I landed a kiss to her forehead. "You." Another on her nose. "Are." Followed by a lingering kiss on her lips. "So beautiful."</p><p>She smiled softly, pressing her forehead to mine. "I love you."</p><p>"I love you too," I said with all the sincerity in the world.</p><p>"Are you trying to make me miss you more than I already will?" she asked, as her eyes began to glisten with tears.</p><p>I pulled her into a hug and she softened into my arms.. "Just giving you something to remember me by."</p><p>"I'll say," she said, as she tightened her arms around me, burying her face into my chest while I held her closer, savoring this rare pocket of privacy where she was all mine, at least for now.</p><p> </p><p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Best Birthday Present</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: I loved year 6 part 2 ! But it made me a lil sad for Ron :( could you maybe write about when Hermione is like fawning over him? (Like how Ron says he deserves a girl who's nice to him)</p><p>Written because Completely Mental Chapter 8 was a lil rough for Won-Won!</p>
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    <p>I lied when I told her I didn't remember saying anything when I woke up. I remember saying her name, it was very intentional. I had been so surprised that she was there, by my side, holding my hand, that I had to say it just to be sure that I wasn't dreaming.</p><p>We hadn't spoken in months, and I was beginning to think we never would. I had been planning an apology for most of that time, but could never actually get myself to say anything. It had become my only chance to talk to her again, so if she turned me down, I'd be shit out of luck.</p><p>That's why I was so excited that we made up in the hospital wing. I was hardly conscious, I remember saying her name, and mumbling some other stuff, and before I knew it she was hugging me. I'd have never thought I'd be better at apologies unconscious, but I've also been known to surprise myself.</p><p>She deserved a true apology, so I tried again a few days later. I was just finishing up the dinner that she had brought from the Great Hall, and she was sitting next to me reading a book.</p><p>"Hermione," I said, before putting my plate on the bedside table and turning to look at her.</p><p>"Yeah," she replied, folding down the corner of the page in her book. She closed it and turned to look at me.</p><p>"I'm so-,"</p><p>"I'm sorry!" she interrupted. I was taken aback by her apology.</p><p>"<em>You're</em> sorry?"</p><p>"Yes!" she put the book on the table beside her and inched her chair closer to mine, before reaching for my hand. "For not talking to you. For not being supportive of you and Lavender. For the <em>canaries.</em> For assuming you had taken Felix Felicis that one time-,"</p><p>She stopped talking when I tugged on her arm, to pull her to my side. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and rested her head against my chest. "I'm sorry for making fun of you that one time in transfiguration. I'm sorry for kissing Lavender in front of you. I'm sorry for...well, kissing Lavender in the first place."</p><p>She looked up at me in confusion, before settling back against my chest. "You had every right to," she protested softly, although it was muffled by my shirt.</p><p>"But I really shouldn't have," I repeated more firmly.</p><p>"I was so awful to you," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "And then I almost lost you."</p><p>"It's ok," I said. I took a risk, and gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. I felt her relax even more against me when I did.</p><p>"Well, if we ever stop talking again, it's not going to be my choice," she said.</p><p>I smiled. "I hope that never happens."</p><p>"Me too."</p><p>At that moment the door to the hospital wing opened, and I must have jolted a little too abruptly. Hermione sat back up in her chair, and I whipped my head toward the entryway, breathing a sigh of relief when it was just Madam Pomfrey returning from her break.</p><p>"Worried Lavender was going to catch you in a compromising position?" she asked with a smirk.</p><p>'Yeah…," I said. So far, I'd been pretending to be asleep every time Lavender came around. It wouldn't look very good if she came by and I was awake with Hermione's head on my chest.</p><p>"Does she come visit you a lot?" Hermione asked tentatively.</p><p>"Not really, no," I told her. "Things haven't been going very well, actually."</p><p>She looked as though she was trying to hide a grin, but her rosy cheeks gave her away. "Well, she should," she said, shrugging innocently. "You deserve a girl who visits you everyday."</p><p>Now I was blushing, when I responded, "You're right. I do."</p><p>She smiled back before settling her head against my chest again. "I'm sorry that I didn't get you a birthday present."</p><p>I simply chuckled, because little did she know, she already gave me the best birthday present.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. You Love Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Romione “accidentally” declaring their love for each other during a heated fight is what I would love to read please.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Ron, why are your clothes everywhere?"</p><p>"They're literally just around my bed, Hermione."</p><p>"Well pick them up, it's driving me insane."</p><p>"If it's driving YOU insane, then you clean up."</p><p>"Ron!"</p><p>Harry groaned as the back of his head hit the tent wall. From where he sat at the tent's front opening, he could hear every word of their bickering. Harry was thrilled that Ron was back, and he knew Hermione was too, although she could do a better job of showing it. Harry and Hermione had hardly spoken during the time Ron was gone, so the constant fighting was an adjustment.</p><p>"The tent was SO CLEAN when you were gone."</p><p>"And I bet you were bored as hell too!"</p><p>"We were focused."</p><p>"So THAT'S why so much got done."</p><p>"Ugh, Ron, you're insufferable."</p><p>The pair had entered the living room, and Harry dropped his head into his hands, attempting to rub the headache away. Obviously Hermione was still upset at Ron for leaving, and the other options were to give him the silent treatment, or unleash a fury of birds at him. Harry might have preferred the silent treatment, but he guessed that Ron was probably enjoying the bickering. Ginny used to refer to their bickering as—</p><p>Harry shook his head. No need to think about that now.</p><p>"Where are you going, Hermione?"</p><p>She paced right past Harry on her way out the door. Ron followed her into the woods. Their voices were now muffled, but Harry could still hear them.</p><p>'Just need some fresh air, Ronald."</p><p>"Well I'm coming with you."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Because we're not done talking about this."</p><p>"RON!" shouted Hermione, "How are we not done talking about this? Just pick up your clothes!"</p><p>Harry laughed softly to himself. They argued about the smallest things. It had always been like that, but right now, it was even worse. Ron seemed to cling to any argument, and drag it on and on. Harry figured he was just happy they were talking, even if it meant constant rows.</p><p>"What Hermione? You want it to look like I'm not even here?"</p><p>"No!" she shouted. "You really are driving me insane."</p><p>"Am I?"</p><p>"Ugh," said Hemione. "I hate you right now." She turned and stomped away from him, but of course, he followed.</p><p>"Oh bollocks, you love me."</p><p>Both of them froze. So did Harry, who sucked in a sharp breath. Ron probably said that by accident.</p><p>"Ok," said Hermione, calmly this time. "Maybe that's true. I love you."</p><p>Harry's eyes widened, and he could see that Ron's did too.</p><p>"You…. you do?" asked Ron.</p><p>Hermione shrugged. "That's why I was so upset when you left."</p><p>"Hermione, you know I feel the same way, right?" he said, taking a step closer to her.</p><p>She backed away. "Then stop screaming at me, and pick up your damn clothes!"</p><p>Ron looked dumbfounded, and Hermione turned abruptly on her heels and stormed back into the tent.</p><p>Harry watched Hermione as she paced quickly into the bedroom, and then whipped his attention back around to Ron, who was still standing in the woods, looking shell shocked.</p><p>Then Ron started back to the tent with a triumphant grin on his face. He passed Harry without even acknowledging them, and followed Hermione, as if he hadn't heard her request to leave her alone.</p><p><em>Bloody mental they are</em>, thought Harry, shaking his head.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Leave Her Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Ron confronts McLaggen after hearing that he overran with Hermione at Slughorn's party. <br/>TW: Mentions of sexual assault.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ron was already late for class when something caught his attention, and he halted. The loud voice that echoed from the boys bathroom made his stomach churn, and it wasn't just because of the arrogant and argumentative tone.</p>
<p>"Hermione Granger," said Cormac McLaggen. The way he said it made his skin crawl. It sounded like he was talking about a fancy dessert or a high-end broomstick, not a person.</p>
<p>Call it morbid curiosity, Ron approached the bathroom, and pressed his ear against the door.</p>
<p>"And it went well?" asked a voice Ron didn't recognize.</p>
<p>"I'll say," said McLaggen. "Turns out she can do a lot more with her mouth than argue."</p>
<p>Ron felt a pit in his stomach. Harry had said she left the party early, and that her date with McLaggen didn't go well. What was he talking about?</p>
<p>"Sorry, I just can't imagine you and Granger," said the other voice.</p>
<p>"Anything's possible with enough butterbeer," mumbled McLaggen.</p>
<p>At that, Ron didn't give himself any time to second guess before he shouldered his way into the bathroom.</p>
<p>"Weasley," said McLaggen. "How much of that did you hear?"</p>
<p>Ron scowled at him. "Enough to make me think you're vile. And I know she thinks it too."</p>
<p>The boy that Ron didn't recognize chuckled, and McLaggen stood up straighter and took a step closer to Ron. "Funny, didn't seem that way under the mistletoe at Slughorn's party," he said, sharing a smirk with his friend. "What's it matter to you? Don't you have another bird on your arm these days?"</p>
<p>Ron ignored him and pressed on. "If she needs to be drunk to stomach being around you, then yes, she thinks you're vile."</p>
<p>McLaggen opened his mouth to respond, but Ron cut him off.</p>
<p>"Don't touch her," he said. For good measure, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at him.</p>
<p>McLaggen scowled as he reached for his own wand. "You think you're gonna hex me, Weasley? Granger was asking for it."</p>
<p>Ron's fist clenched around his wand and anger boiled up inside him. There was no question about hexing him now. "Levicorpus."</p>
<p>As if an invisible lasso had tightened on his ankles, McLaggen was abruptly hoisted into the air and left to dangle in space. "What the bloody hell, Weasley?"</p>
<p>Ron swiped his wand at McLaggen's friend who had drawn his own, expertly disarming him with a nonverbal spell before turning it back on McLaggen. "Say you'll leave her alone."</p>
<p>McLaggen simply bounced in midair. His face was red, a large vein visible on his forehead like an earthworm trying to burrow free. "Fine," he spluttered, before continuing more softly, "Can do better anyway."</p>
<p><em>No you can't</em>, thought Ron. "I'll hold you to it," he said as he turned and made his way back to the door.</p>
<p>"Weasley, aren't you going to let me down?" asked McLaggen, now flailing desperately.</p>
<p>"No," he responded as he opened the door. "You kind of asked for it."</p>
<p>And with that, Ron shut the door on McLaggen, and continued down the hall for class. He'd be very late now, but it was worth it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. A Pep Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Could you do something based on Ron saying something along the lines of "for some reason, Lavender thinks I'm amazing"? Bonus points if Hermione overhears.</p>
<p>Era: Half-Blood Prince<br/>Rating: T</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I hope we win," said Ron. "If we lose, it'll all be my fault."</p>
<p>The Gryffindor Quidditch team was hustling through the corridors, nearly at risk of being late to the game. If Ron was feeling insecure and nervous, they definitely wouldn't win. Harry knew he needed a pep talk, but there was hardly time.</p>
<p>He grabbed Ron by the arm and held him back. "You guys go down to the pitch. We will meet you there."</p>
<p>The team nodded and scurried off, and Harry pulled Ron into an empty classroom. He shut the door and turned to him.</p>
<p>"Ron, don't think like that, please."</p>
<p>Ron sat down at a desk, and buried his head in his hands. "I'm a rubbish player, aren't I?"</p>
<p>"No, you're not." Harry sat next to him. "Remember last time? You single handedly won the game for us."</p>
<p>"But that was different!" he said. "I thought I had taken Felix—"</p>
<p>"But you didn't!"</p>
<p>Ron shook his head. "Hermione thinks I'm a rubbish player."</p>
<p>It didn't really matter what Hermione thought right now, but if this was what was making him nervous, he'd better put a stop to it. "Hermione doesn't think that, but she probably won't be there anyway. Lavender will."</p>
<p>Ron groaned.</p>
<p>"There's no need to be nervous," Harry continued. "You're going to be great."</p>
<p>Ron frowned, letting out a sigh.</p>
<p>"You know what Lavender thinks, right?" asked Harry.</p>
<p>Ron nodded slowly. "For some reason, Lavender thinks I'm amazing."</p>
<p>Harry detected disbelief in his voice, but this was a good direction. He could use this to ease Ron's nerves. He turned to Ron to continue, while forming a pep talk in his mind.</p>
<hr/>
<p>"There's no need to be nervous, you're going to be great."</p>
<p>Hermione froze at the sound of Harry's voice echoing from an empty classroom. She was on her way down to the Quidditch pitch for the game, and had assumed he would be there already. He was the captain after all, it wouldn't look very good if he was late.</p>
<p>Assuming he'd lost track of time, she figured it would be best to remind him. She turned toward the door of the classroom, but right before she opened it, Harry spoke again.</p>
<p>"You know what Lavender thinks, right?" said Harry.</p>
<p>There was another voice. "For some reason, Lavender thinks I'm amazing."</p>
<p>The sound of Ron's voice made her stomach clench. But his words ignited a fit of white-hot jealousy. <em>Lavender.</em> But with that jealousy came an inexplicable curiosity. <em>What exactly did Lavender think he was amazing at?</em> She wasn't sure she wanted to know, yet her ear was suddenly on the door like a magnet.</p>
<p>Harry's voice came next. "Exactly, just focus on that. Let her boost your confidence. You're way more coordinated than you think you are."</p>
<p>Hermione's heart sank. They couldn't be talking about—</p>
<p>
  <em>No. They've only been together a few weeks. There's no way.</em>
</p>
<p>She figured the best way to protect her heart was to walk away, but the question would always linger in the back of her mind. She didn't want to know any more, but she needed to find out. Her feet remained firmly rooted, and she kept listening.</p>
<p>"What if I screw up?" asked Ron. His voice trembled with insecurity. "What if I make a fool of myself?"</p>
<p>Hermione frowned. The nervousness in his voice made her want to hug him, but that was Lavender's job now.</p>
<p>
  <em>Please don't be talking about sex.</em>
</p>
<p>It was an involuntary plead in the back of her mind. She could walk away now without confirmation, and fill in the gaps of their conversation with more innocent insecurities. But Hermione's curiosity had always been extremely difficult to ignore. So she stayed.</p>
<p>Harry spoke more softly now, and Hermione wished for one of Fred and George's extendable ears. "Ron, just focus on the moment. Instinct will take over. You'll know exactly what to do if you just don't think about it too much."</p>
<p>"You think so?" asked Ron.</p>
<p>"Yes, it's natural. You said yourself that you're really good with your hands, and your body knows exactly how to move. Just don't worry about how you look. You've got this."</p>
<p>
  <em>No, no, no. </em>
</p>
<p>"You're right, it's natural. It's instinct," said Ron, his voice sounding a little more confident.</p>
<p>"Exactly," said Harry. "Just think about Lavender, and how amazing she already thinks you are."</p>
<p>Hermione pulled her ear away from the door. She should have stopped listening. Hot tears burned her eyes as she turned and quickly made her way back down the corridor. She no longer wanted to attend the game. She didn't want to face Lavender in the stands and watch her swoon over Ron. She didn't want to fake excitement if Gryffindor won, all while knowing how Ron and Lavender might choose to celebrate. An image of Ron and Lavender tangled in bed together forced its way to her mind, and she couldn't shake it.</p>
<p>
  <em>I should have been the one to tell Ron how amazing he was. It could have been me. </em>
</p>
<p>She scurried down the halls, wiping tears from her face as they finally fell.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Worth The Wait</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Hi! I've got Completely Mental still on my mind, and I'm really, really interested in the conversation that Ron and Hermione have following Ron's breakup with Lavender.</p><p>Era: Half Blood Prince (A missing moment from chapter 9 of Completely Mental)<br/>Rating: K+</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Like older times, Ron and Hermione were sitting by the fire in the common room. They had been studying together like this almost every night since the breakup.</p><p>It was nice to return to an old normal between them— sitting by the fire, doing homework, making casual conversation— but Ron couldn't help but want more. Breaking up with Lavender— or rather, Lavender breaking up with him— was just part one of the daunting task that had been causing him anxiety for the last few months.</p><p>Ron glanced over at Hermione. Her head was bowed over her books, leaving her bushy hair billowing around her face like a parachute, and under it, he could see she was biting her quill in that way that drove him absolutely insane.</p><p>She snapped her head up at the sound of the portrait hole door opening, and Ron turned his gaze back to his books, so she wouldn't catch him looking at her. He didn't have to look at the door to see who it was, an indignant huff told him that much. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Hermione shift uncomfortably as Lavender Brown stormed by, and Ron kept his gaze intent on his homework to avoid attracting any unwelcome conversation.</p><p>Clearly, Lavender already thought there was something beyond friendship between Ron and Hermione, which only made him wish there was, even more than he already did.</p><p>Her abrupt entrance and exit seemed to bring Hermione onto a similar line of thinking. "Are you glad you two broke up?" she asked, after Lavender stormed up the stairs.</p><p>Ron turned to look at her smiling sheepishly at him. Maybe this was his opportunity. He took a deep breath. "Yeah. I am actually."</p><p>"Good," she said. "You seemed unhappy."</p><p>Ron nodded. "I was." His words left an expectant silence between them. Why was this so hard?</p><p>"Are you happy now?" she asked, carrying the conversation forward for him.</p><p>Ron knew it was a perfect segue, and a better opportunity for this conversation wouldn't arise so naturally anytime soon. Still, he felt his palms sweat and his face heat up. He just got Hermione back as a friend and didn't want to do anything to risk it.</p><p>But he wasn't satisfied. "Not entirely, no," he answered her.</p><p>She nodded, but said nothing. Her raised eyebrows encouraged him to continue.</p><p>"I would be happier if something happened between us." He exhaled relief, but the pit in his stomach tightened. He knew he was blushing like a tomato. What would she say?</p><p>He thought he could see a flash of satisfaction in her eyes. "Me too," she said.</p><p>"Really—?" he started excitedly.</p><p>"But," she interrupted. "I...I don't think it's the right time."</p><p>Ron's stomach dropped to the floor. "It isn't?"</p><p>Hermione's eyes were watering, and he suddenly felt equally guilty as he was hurt. "Don't hate me for saying this but, I need more time."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"Well…," she bit her lip, as she searched for the right words. Ron hated how crazy it made him. "You know how she implied you were cheating on her with me?"</p><p>"Yeah, but it wasn't true…"</p><p>She shrugged, but continued to explain. "People haven't exactly been nice about that. To me, I mean They think it true, and it would just confirm it for them if we were to get together now."</p><p>Ron's heart sank. He hadn't thought of that. In fact, he hadn't thought of what any of this might be like for Hermione. "We could be secretive—"</p><p>"Do you really want that?"</p><p>Although there was something enticing about the idea of sneaking around, Ron knew the allure wouldn't last very long. "No, I don't want to hide anything."</p><p>"Neither do I. And it's not just that. I think...we need to get used to being friends again."</p><p>"What do you mean?" he asked, the hurt evident in the tone of his voice.</p><p>"Isn't this kind of awkward," she said, motioning to the space between them. "I feel like we're walking on eggshells around one another. Don't you?"</p><p>It became clearer to Ron as soon as she acknowledged it. Deep down there was still a wound between them. They had both hurt each other this year, and broken one another's trust, and that doesn't just change overnight with an apology. He hated to admit it, but she was right. He wanted her now, but more importantly, he wanted to give them a chance, and that meant rebuilding their friendship first. He hated the idea, but he knew it was the best thing to do.</p><p>"You're right," he said. "I'm sorry I hurt you this year."</p><p>"And I'm sorry I hurt you back."</p><p>This time the silence between them felt like a resolution, or at least the start of one. There was an understanding in their eye contact.</p><p>"We should go to sleep," she said eventually, and Ron nodded.</p><p>They packed up their books Ron walked with her to the base of the stairs to the girls' dormitory. He opened his arms for a hug. She leaned into him and he embraced her.</p><p>The hug lasted just a few minutes, but Ron could have stayed there for much longer, enjoying this new space between friends and more. It wasn't enough, but he'd take it.</p><p>"Thank you," she said against his chest. "For giving this time."</p><p>He tightened his arms around her. "You're worth the wait."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Number Eleven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: "Don't hesitate, just kiss me." I can't help myself, Romione please?<br/>(I took some liberty and gave the gist of this line to George!)</p><p>Era: Post War</p><p>Rating: T</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He could still count the number of times he'd kissed her on his hands.</p><p>With Lavender, it was hard to keep track because his mind would always wander elsewhere while they kissed. He'd start thinking about his schoolwork, quidditch, or Hermione. Mostly Hermione. By the time he refocused, it was impossible to know if they had shared one, two, or five kisses, and he didn't really care anyway.</p><p>He couldn't focus on anything else when Hermione kissed him, so he remembered each one vividly. Although amazing, it didn't feel normal to be able to kiss her. He still hesitated each time, half expecting her to turn her head away and change her mind, but she never did.</p><p>First, the Room of Requirement. He'd never forget that one. Even if someone obliviated him, he was certain the sound of basilisk fangs clattering to the floor, and the feeling of her lips frantically meeting his would still be there.</p><p>Then they kissed again after the battle, on their way back to the Gryffindor common room. The heartbreak he felt for Fred must have been evident in the way he walked determinedly forward, face down, shoulders slumped, because she did exactly what he wanted her to do. She reached for his hand and pulled him to an empty hallway and hugged him. Then he cried into hair, and she just held him for as long as he needed to be held.</p><p>When he stopped crying, their lips came together. He didn't know who initiated it, but it didn't matter like he thought it would. Their second kiss communicated something completely different than their first one. Rather than 'I want you', it said 'I'm here for you', and Ron scanned every detail into his memory. It was softer, gentler and sweeter, and managed to burn away some of the sorrow he felt about Fred.</p><p>Their third kiss was in the boys' dormitory, more specifically, his bed. Curled up in eachothers' arms, under the blankets, they enjoyed a more passionate kiss that might have turned into a snog if he hadn't been so damn tired. They silently agreed to put that on hold before sleep overtook them, and he was grateful, because he wanted to be fully present the first time they truly snogged.</p><p>They shared their fourth kiss the next morning, but Ron kept it short and sweet, because he hadn't brushed his teeth yet, and he was a bit self-conscious…</p><p>The day after the battle was a blur. He spent most of the day making arrangements with his family, checking in with his classmates, and visiting victims in the hospital wing. They both remained distracted until later that evening, when they returned to the Burrow, and they shared their fifth kiss on the landing of the stairs before parting ways for the night.</p><p>Kisses number six, seven, and eight all happened the next day. In the garden after breakfast, quickly in the living room between chores, when they had a rare moment alone, and before bed, when Hermione managed to slide into his room, and Harry determinedly looked away.</p><p>Number nine was their first real snog. They took an afternoon around the orchard, and finally alone and obscured by trees, he embraced her. She let him press her up against an apple tree while he admitted her tongue between his lips, and it was a blissful oblivion.</p><p>Then there was number ten, earlier today, before the funeral. It was a lot like number two—comforting, supportive, gentle, hidden away from prying eyes.</p><p>xXx</p><p>The funeral ended hours ago, but Ron, Hermione, Harry and the rest of his siblings were still outside, passing around Butterbeers and telling stories of Fred.</p><p>Hermione was next to him, but no closer than she would have been sitting if they were still just friends. That was one thing about the last ten kisses, apart from Harry, no one else knew about them.</p><p>It was strange to feel such happiness with Hermione in the midst of his debilitating grief. Both emotions were so strong, yet somehow, they didn't conflict with one another. He had enough room for it all.</p><p>Out of respect for everyone's sadness, they'd been keeping their relationship relatively quiet. Ron was balancing both grief for Fred and excitement over Hermione, and he didn't want to risk his family misunderstanding that. As a result, he still hesitated before each kiss, just to look around and make sure no one would see.</p><p>Then George brought it up.</p><p>"Fred and I would make bets with one another. There was one that never got resolved," he said, staring directly at Ron.</p><p>He looked like he expected Ron to respond, so he did. "What was the bet?"</p><p>George motioned between him and Hermione with his butterbeer. "You two."</p><p>"What about us?" asked Ron nervously.</p><p>"Are you together?"</p><p>Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance, and the grins that spread across their faces gave their answer away.</p><p>"Good," said George. "Who kissed who?"</p><p>Ron looked back at George with wide eyes. "You bet on that?"</p><p>George nodded. "I reckoned you'd be the one to pluck up the courage and kiss her. Fred figured it'd be Hermione."</p><p>Ron could feel his face reddening, Hermione smiled smugly in his peripheral vision.</p><p>"So," said George, a little impatiently. "Who won the bet?"</p><p>"Erm, Fred won," answered Ron.</p><p>"Bugger! He always wins," said George, looking at Hermione with a hint of admiration. "Ron, why didn't you kiss her?"</p><p>Ron opened his mouth to speak, but paused, unsure exactly how to answer. Hermione filled the silence.</p><p>"He hesitated," she said, smirking. "So I took my opportunity."</p><p>George smiled. "Of course he did. I'm happy for you both. Fred would be too."</p><p>Ron looked at Hermione, and she slipped her hand into his. He wanted to kiss her, but was still unsure if it'd be in bad taste.</p><p>George didn't seem to think so. "Well don't hesitate, just kiss her," he said, alleviating Ron of his uncertainty.</p><p>Hermione smiled as Ron reached a hand behind her head and gently guided her lips to his. Number eleven. He heard a chorus of "awws", whistles, and even a groan from Ginny. .</p><p>Now everyone knew. Did this mean he could kiss her whenever he wanted? If so, he would. He could no longer count their kisses on his fingers, and he couldn't wait to start losing track of them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Alive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ron's run in with the snatchers when he leaves the hunt in DH. Written for the IWSC Writing School suspense/tension challenge!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There is something dangerous in these woods, and he needs to leave.</p><p>It's an instinct, a gut feeling, a heavy, foreboding rock in his stomach that tells him that staying put could be lethal.</p><p>Closing his eyes, he imagines his brother's cottage on the beach. He pictures it so vividly that it feels like he's already there. The smell of the salty air quells the stench of the decaying forest floor, the rhythmic waves fill the soundless woods with a melody, and the kitchen lights — his stomach grumbles at the thought of a kitchen — burst from the cottage's windows. It taunts him with warmth and hospitality in an otherwise dark and unkind thicket. <em>Destination.</em></p><p>An inexplicable panic is rising within him. He <em>has</em> to leave, and quickly. His mind doesn't yet know what the danger is, but his body clearly does, and there's no time to wait for it all to make sense. His pulse is irate, his breathing shallow, and escaping is his only option. <em>Determination.</em></p><p><em>Why are you hesitating? </em>The question flashes across his mind, and he tries to bury it, deny it, but he can't. He knows exactly why he's hesitating:</p><p>Guilt, anger, and self-hatred.</p><p>A broken heart that he brought upon himself.</p><p>His festering fear that maybe he doesn't deserve to escape.</p><p>Inaction may kill him, so he packs his heartache away — it was his emotion that got him into this mess, and now he needs out. He has to leave now, it's the only way to survive. <em>Deliberation. </em></p><p>He waits for the familiar pop of apparition, the hook behind his navel, the magical scene-change, but it doesn't happen. When his eyes snap open, he's in the same sinister, stagnant, unwelcoming forest.</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>He shoves his hands into his pockets, grasping desperately for his wand.</p><p>It's not there.</p><p>His eyes scan the mosaic of dirt, leaves and twigs beneath his feet. He chooses to remain optimistic, even though the odds of finding a wand on the forest floor are abysmal.</p><p>He scrapes through the soil and shoves aside sticks, muddying his hands with the dirt, grime, and decay of the forest, but he still can't find his wand. The rustle of his search echoes through the otherwise silent woods.</p><p>It alerts <em>them</em> to his presence.</p><p>"Who's there?"</p><p>The voice is something between a growl and a hiss. It hardly sounds human. The hair on his arms stands on edge, his body freezes, and his breathing ceases.</p><p>"Where?" The second voice comes from the opposite direction, and his previous choice to remain optimistic suddenly seems foolish.</p><p>He steadies his trembling feet — or at least he tries to — an effort to prevent exposing his location with an accidental crunch of leaves beneath his trainers. His own pulse is loudly drumming in his temples, and he wonders if they can hear it too.</p><p>He has to escape, somehow. If only there was a way to apparate without a wand.</p><p>
  <em>Focus, Ron!</em>
</p><p>His heart sinks when those words float into his mind because he hears them in <em>her</em> voice. It's the only voice they belong to. She has always been the one that nags him to concentrate, the one that comes up with creative solutions. The one that saves his life.</p><p>And he left her. <em>Stupid. </em>Tears sting his eyes, and his body forces a breath, but it comes out audibly, a soft, but prominent sob.</p><p>"Did you hear that?"</p><p>The gruff voice yanks him back to reality. Feet are approaching him now — he doesn't count how many.</p><p>
  <em>Think. What would Hermione do?</em>
</p><p>The thought of Hermione in his position doesn't just drain the color from his face, but his whole world. Picturing her in these woods, surrounded, at risk of capture fills him with a stronger motivation to act. Suddenly it's not a choice to remain optimistic. It's no longer a want, but a need.</p><p>His body reacts before his brain can make sense of it. Crouching to the ground, he grabs a rock, and launches it toward the nearest set of footprints. He doesn't see where it lands, but he hears it.</p><p>"Aaaargh!" In its panic, the voice is less gruff than before, much softer, unthreatening and unrecognizable.</p><p>He isn't alone in thinking so. "Expelliarmus!" another one shouts, then immediately, "Sorry! I thought you were—"</p><p>There's no time. Someone's wand is flying through the air, and his opportunity is either now, or never.</p><p>Before he can talk himself out of it, he's on his feet, sprinting toward the expelled wand as it falls to the forest floor. It takes a moment for them all to react, but when they do, the eerily quiet forest erupts as a battleground, echoing with the sounds of sinister incantations he's never heard before — jinxes, curses, and spells that could hurt him, stun him, or maybe even kill him. Jets of light streak the darkness, illuminating the yellowing, crooked, gap-toothed grins of the snatchers. He reacts instinctively by diving to the ground, and catching the wand right before it lands. He closes his eyes, and this time, he doesn't hesitate.</p><p>
  <em>Destination. Determination. Deliberation. </em>
</p><p>As if an imaginary hook latches behind his navel, he is yanked backwards into thin air. The trees bend and twist grotesquely, disappearing briefly into nothingness. The abrasive smell of wood, waste, and decay dissipates and neutralizes. The jets of light that cut through the eerie, threatening darkness of the forest soften and fade. It's a nauseating relief.</p><p>For a split second, there's nothing. Then it hits him.</p><p>The misty, salted air fills his lungs. The rhythmic, energetic waves muffle the staccato of his pulse, and the cottage's windows are glowing in the moonlight, revealing the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen. His stomach growls.</p><p>He's cold and tired. Hungry and heartbroken.</p><p>He's angry at himself for leaving her.</p><p>But he pushes those thoughts aside for now, and chooses to remain optimistic.</p><p>He's alive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Any Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Original tumblr ask: Ron and Hermione decide that they'll get married once they're settled in their career, but I imagine them making a promise to each other that they'll marry eventually (+ there are rings involved). If it inspires you!</p><p>Era: Post-War<br/>Rating: K</p><p>Written for the IWSC Writing School<br/>Challenge: Tense (Present / Past)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Happy anniversary."</p><p>The words come as a whisper in my ear. Like wind rustling through faraway trees, they could blend right into the background, but once they grab my attention, I can't ignore them. Those words should make me smile, but they don't.</p><p>Today may be our anniversary, but it's also the day Fred died, and on this day every year, we gather at the Burrow to remember his life. Thankfully, the grief has become more manageable over time. It no longer greys every day like it used to — just this one, May 2nd.</p><p>"Happy anniversary," I say back, although the words don't feel or sound sincere. I squeeze her hand, and she returns the pressure firmly. When the weight of her head lands on my shoulder, I know she understands.</p><p>I never mentioned our first anniversary because the grief was too overwhelming. It felt wrong to celebrate, so I said nothing at all.</p><p>The following year, I waited until June. When the emotions finally began to subside, I didn't feel quite as guilty relishing in something that made me happy, so I said something.</p><p>"We've been together for more than two years now."</p><p>Instead of celebrating two years together in May, we celebrated <em>more than two years together</em> in June. We continued like that over the years, always honoring the passage of a milestone, but never the milestone itself. <em>More than three years. More than four years. More than five years. </em></p><p>Each year, our well wishes crept closer to May 2nd, but we kept clear of the actual day. Unlike other couples, our celebrations were always quiet. We never went on fancy dates, took holidays, or received cards from friends and family, but we could always count on an invitation to a solemn dinner memorial at the Burrow. We convinced ourselves we didn't mind because there were more important things to commemorate on our anniversary.</p><p>Today is the first time I've heard her say those words <em>on </em>May 2nd, not sometime after, and I can no longer deny that it bothers me. I start fidgeting with the grass, plucking a strand and twiddling it between my fingers, a nervous habit that she immediately recognizes. "What's wrong?"</p><p>"We should pick a new day to celebrate."</p><p>Hermione laughs sadly. "I wish we could."</p><p>The words '<em>I could have kissed you sooner'</em> sit idly behind my lips, but I hold them back. Dwelling on the past won't get me anywhere. "We can pick a new one."</p><p>She squeezes my hand and narrows her eyes questioningly, silently asking me to elaborate.</p><p>"Would you like to pick a new anniversary?" I ask more confidently, my fingers on her hand — more specifically, her left ring finger.</p><p>She breaks into a genuine smile, and her eyes glisten with tears. I've already seen her crying today, but not because of happiness. She nods. "Yeah. I would."</p><p>I tie the blade of grass loosely around her ring finger. It's flimsy and breakable, but it'll do for now. "I'll get you a real ring, of course."</p><p>With a smile, she plucks another blade of grass and reaches for my left hand, tying it around my ring finger too. "I think these are perfect."</p><p>"Let's pick a day then." I lean back on the grass, and she follows suit, huddling into the crook of my arm.</p><p>"Any day?"</p><p>"Any day."</p><p>We lie there on the grass for some time, admiring the sun creeping through the clouds, shining some light on the day. We've discussed marriage before but have never made official plans. It's nice to focus on the future and not the past. It's been an unexpectedly good anniversary, but I know our next one will be even better, no matter what day it happens to be.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Driving Lesson</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Hermione gives Ron a driving lesson. Era: Epilogue, Rating: K</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Impervious."</p>
<p>A protective barrier spread across the car's windshield, repelling the heavy snowdrops so they simply bounced away. Ron glanced down momentarily as he shoved his wand back into his pocket, and as a result, he nearly missed the flashing brake lights of the car in front of him.</p>
<p>"Ron!"</p>
<p>"Oh shit, sorry!" Ron slammed on the breaks, and the car skidded across the snow. For a moment, he lost control, and he braced for a collision as they drifted into the next lane. He loosened his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel as soon he could feel traction from the tires again. Hermione looked tense but sighed with relief. In his peripheral vision, Ron could see she had one hand on her heart while the other gripped the handle above the window.</p>
<p>Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand for the second time. He was about to cast a cushioning charm around the car when Hermione interrupted him. "Ron, what are you doing?"</p>
<p>"Casting a cushioning charm!"</p>
<p>"You <em>can't</em> do that, Ron."</p>
<p>"What if we crash?"</p>
<p>"Just <em>don't </em>crash!"</p>
<p>He ignored her and cast the cushioning charm anyway, earning an indignant huff from the passenger seat. "What?"</p>
<p>"You can't use magic when you're driving, that's what."</p>
<p>"I dunno, Hermione, it sure makes it easier."</p>
<p>She leaned over and flipped a lever next to the steering wheel. "This is how you activate the windshield wipers."</p>
<p>"The Impervious Charm works better."</p>
<p>"What if it's snowing during your driving test? Are you going to whip out your wand and cast a charm in front of your Muggle instructor?"</p>
<p>Ron groaned. "I can always Confund them—"</p>
<p>"What?!"</p>
<p>"No, I'm not gonna use the charm," he mumbled.</p>
<p>"Good," she quipped.</p>
<p>There was a smug silence between them, and it made him hesitant to ask his next question. "Can you show me again?"</p>
<p>Hermione laughed. "It's right here," she said, motioning to the side of the steering wheel.</p>
<p>"And if I need to defog the windows?"</p>
<p>"You're insufferable," she replied, pressing a button on the dashboard.</p>
<p>Ron smiled. "I know."</p>
<hr/>
<p>The day of Ron's driving test was no less gloomy. Snowdrops threatened to fall from the cold, gray skies, and he wished Hermione could be there to remind him which buttons to press if it did. Not that he'd need her to, but just in case.</p>
<p>The nervous pit in his stomach reminded him to stop underestimating the complexity of Muggle technology. Huddled in his coat, he greeted the driving instructor with a sheepish grin.</p>
<p>"Hi, I'm Ron Weasley. I'm here for the test."</p>
<p>The Muggle man eyed Ron from head to toe. "You?"</p>
<p>"Yes, me."</p>
<p>The man shrugged and scribbled something on his clipboard. "I was expecting someone younger."</p>
<p>"Sorry to disappoint," said Ron jovially, hoping for a chuckle from the man, but he had no such luck.</p>
<p>"Should be pretty simple," he said, motioning toward the car.</p>
<p>Ron entered first and placed his hands on the steering wheel. The man settled into the passenger seat and pulled out his clipboard. Ron could tell he was watching him through the corners of his eyes, so he made a show of adjusting his mirrors and clicking on his seatbelt. The instructor scribbled on his clipboard, and Ron hoped he hadn't missed anything.</p>
<p>As soon as Ron started the car and pulled out onto the road, the inevitable happened: the skies seemed to open up like a split paper bag, and thick drops of snow fell like confetti.</p>
<p>"Rough weather for your driving test," joked the instructor.</p>
<p><em>I'll say,</em> thought Ron. The windows started to fog, and Ron could hardly see the road in front of them. The man looked at Ron expectantly, so he clicked what he thought was the right button, and sighed relief when the mist on the windshield began to recede. <em>Now for the swiper things. </em>He turned the same lever Hermione had used before, and the blades began to move.</p>
<p>Ron tried to ignore the scribbling from the passenger seat as he slowed to a stop at an intersection, preparing to make a turn.</p>
<p>"Are you missing something?" asked the instructor.</p>
<p>"Erm...What?"</p>
<p>"Your turn signal."</p>
<p>"Oh, of course," said Ron, clicking on the lever while the man's ominous scribbling continued.</p>
<p>The snow became heavier, and soon enough, the swipers couldn't keep up. Ron had never needed to adjust the speed before and realized he had no idea how. He began to panic.</p>
<p>"You might want to turn those up."</p>
<p><em>No shit.</em> "Yeah, I will, just a sec."</p>
<p>He could feel his wand in his pocket; it would be so easy to cast an Impervious charm, but unfortunately, the instructor was looking right at him. "Do you know how to increase the speed?"</p>
<p>"No. No, I don't." At this point, Ron knew he wasn't passing this test without a little bit of magic. He reached into his pocket as the man leaned across to adjust the blades' speed for him. Before he had a chance to look back, Ron pointed his wand at him and muttered, "Confundus."</p>
<p>The man shook his head a few times as if he had water in his ears. "Where are we?"</p>
<p>"We were just finishing up the driving test."</p>
<p>"Right." The instructor looked at his notes. "I didn't write much down. You must have done very well."</p>
<p>"Oh, erm—"</p>
<p>"I guess you can head back. Congratulations, you passed!"</p>
<p>"Great!" he said to the instructor, who was no longer watching Ron, but staring blankly out the window.</p>
<p>Ron felt a pang of guilt, knowing Hermione would probably be angry about <em>how</em> he had passed his driving test. She didn't <em>need </em>to know…</p>
<p>All in all, she'd probably be excited he could finally drive now, and when he drove in the snow, he'd just cast a damn Impervious Charm.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Catfishing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>For the prompt: "Hold on, this whole thing was your idea."</p>
<p>A very likely scenario in which Ron and Hermione compete on The Circle and catfish as Harry.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So let me get this straight. We are <em>pretending</em> to be Harry?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Ron.” Hermione’s tone bordered on impatience after explaining the muggle term <em>catfishing</em> to Ron, showing him how social media worked, and holding his hand through the set-up process of their online profile.</p>
<p>They were standing shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the giant screen mounted to an aggressively orange wall. Their temporary flat had— <em>supposedly</em>— been customized to their preferences, which included a Chudley Cannons-colored accent wall, fluffy yellow pillows on a stark-white sofa, and a kitchenette that was fully stocked with appliances that Ron didn’t know how to use.</p>
<p>Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he had committed to when he suggested competing on The Circle. So far, this was much more intense than he’d anticipated, and he’d been fighting off constant waves of nausea since arriving on set, not unlike his anxiety before a Quidditch match. It was almost worse—over his time at Hogwarts he’d grown accustomed to the whole school watching him play, but this was different. This time, the entire muggle population of Great Britain was watching him compete in a game to which he didn’t yet know the rules.</p>
<p>If he had known that The Circle was such a <em>big deal</em>, he would have found another way to win one hundred thousand pounds—or however many galleons that was.</p>
<p>He glanced sideways at Hermione, quietly resenting the fact that she hadn’t tried to talk him out of it.</p>
<p>“Do you think they’ll believe that we’re Harry?” he asked.</p>
<p>“If we play the game well, they will. Remember, he’s not famous in the muggle world. They have no idea who he is.”</p>
<p>Right,<em> the muggle world.</em> The one Ron knew very little about— a fact that put him at great risk of breaking the Statute of Secrecy during this game. Why was he doing this again? Hermione really should have stopped him.</p>
<p>“Okay, it works for me,” said Ron, shrugging. “Circle, edit profile.”</p>
<p>He chuckled when the proper boxes popped up, and a cursor blinked expectantly at him. How was that not magic? Impressive.</p>
<p>Hermione cleared her throat. “Let’s set our age to twenty, and our occupation to…” she paused, scrunching up her face in thought. “How about Security Guard?”</p>
<p>Ron hesitated. “I don’t know if we can convince people that that scrawny git is a security guard.”</p>
<p>“That’s a good point,” shrugged Hermione, “but he’s kind of young to be a full-fledged police officer.”</p>
<p>“Unemployed trust-fund kid?” suggested Ron, with a smirk that read ‘<em>where’s the lie?”</em></p>
<p>Hermione tried to mask a smile. “Well, yes, but we want people to like him and think he deserves to win a hundred thousand pounds.”</p>
<p>“Let’s say he’s a student, then.”</p>
<p>Hermione nodded. “Yes, that makes the most sense. Circle, set occupation to student.”</p>
<p>Ron glanced at Hermione. “Do you know enough about muggle school to get by?”</p>
<p>Hermione scowled at him, clearly affronted by his assumption that she wouldn’t.</p>
<p>“Great,” he said brightly, although still skeptical. “Circle, edit description.”</p>
<p>“My name is Harry and I am a 20-year-old pre-law student,” began Hermione, glancing sideways at Ron, who nodded his approval. “I spend most of my time studying, playing sports, and hanging out with my two-year-old godson, Teddy.” She motioned at Ron to pick up where she left off.</p>
<p>“I’d love to win the money for Teddy, whose parents were killed when he was a baby. As a fellow orphan, I want Teddy to have a better childhood than I did—”</p>
<p>Hermione interrupted him with a glare. “You’re joking, right?”</p>
<p>“Should I not say that?”</p>
<p>“Don’t you think we should play down the whole ‘<em>tortured past’</em> thing?”</p>
<p>“I guess,” sighed Ron. “I just want people to think he’s interesting.”</p>
<p>“Me too, but not ‘<em>the chosen one’</em> kind of interesting.”</p>
<p>“Good point,” said Ron. “You end it, then.”</p>
<p>Hermione turned back to the screen. “I’m so excited to be a part of the #CircleFam and I can’t wait to get to know everyone!”</p>
<p>Ron nodded. “Sounds good. Friendly, interesting, but not too interesting.”</p>
<p>“Perfect’ said Hermione.</p>
<p>They turned back to the screen. The description and biography were complete; they were just missing a profile picture.</p>
<p>“Circle,” said Ron loudly and clearly. “Take me to my photo albums.”</p>
<p>A collage of non-moving photographs filtered onto the screen — there was a photo of Harry and Ginny holding hands at the beach, the three of them smiling at a muggle theme park, a grainy mirror-selfie that Harry took in what appeared to be a public bathroom, and a photo of Harry laughing and carrying Dobby on his back.</p>
<p>“You know what? That’s the best one,” said Hermione, pointing at the photo of Harry and Dobby. “I think we should use it.”</p>
<p>“And what will the muggles think?” asked Ron.</p>
<p>“They’ll probably assume he photoshopped it.”</p>
<p>Ron opened his mouth to retort but decided against asking her what the hell ‘photoshop’ meant. “Okay, I trust you.”</p>
<p>“Circle, select profile photo,” she said, guiding the cursor to the correct picture.</p>
<p>The computer’s robot voice responded, “Profile complete: Circle Chat is now open.”</p>
<p>Both Ron and Hermione hesitated as the reality sank in. Were they really going to do this?</p>
<p>“I guess we should introduce ourselves now,” said Hermione flatly.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” said Ron, as his stomach twisted into knots. “I guess.”</p>
<p>They glanced nervously at each other and said in unison, “Open Circle Chat.”</p>
<p>As soon as the chatbox opened, messages began flooding in.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>“New player!”</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>“OMG nice to meet you!”</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>“Welcome to the #CircleFam!”</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>“Hello, Harry!”</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>“Welcome!!!!!”</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>“Tell us about yourself!”</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Hermione chuckled and took a step back. “Answer them, Ron! Just don’t say anything too wizardy.”</p>
<p>“Why me? I can’t talk to muggles, I’ll give us away!” said Ron, watching the screen wide-eyed as messages kept scrolling through. “You have to do it!”</p>
<p>“Hold on, this whole thing was your idea.”</p>
<p>Ron groaned. “I know it was! But I thought you’d do the talking!”</p>
<p>Hermione rolled her eyes. “Really? I’m terrible at social media.”</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“LOL I knew it would be another dude!”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“Ladies, keep it together.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“Bro, what did you do to your profile picture?</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“Is that Yoda?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>“What the bloody hell is a Yoda?” asked Ron.</p>
<p>“They must think Dobby is a Star Wars character.”</p>
<p>“See, this is why you have to do it! I don’t know anything about Star Wars.”</p>
<p>“And you think I do?” asked Hermione.</p>
<p>They carried on arguing, nearly forgetting about the open Circle Chat awaiting their participation. The Circle participants must have been hungry for human interaction because when they finally paused to glance back at the screen, it was still scrolling with messages.</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“Are you there, Harry?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“Hello?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“Knock knock! Who’s there?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>“Ron!” said Hermione, panic seeping through her tone. “Really, we need to respond!”</p>
<p>“I know!” he said. “How are they still talking— oh no, Hermione, look what they’re saying!”</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“How are we supposed to believe this guy is really twenty if he can’t keep up with a group chat?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“I smell catfish.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>“They’re onto us already!”</p>
<p>“I know,” she said. “We’re so screwed.”</p>
<p>“No, no, we’ve got this,” said Ron. “Let’s not get discouraged. If we can win the wizarding war, we can definitely win The Circle.”</p>
<p>Hermione nodded. “You’re right,” she said, turning back to the screen. “Let’s do this!”</p>
<p>Ron cleared his throat again. “Hey everyone! My name is Harry and I’m excited to be here. What’s a Yoda?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” muttered Hermione as soon as the message sent. “We’re screwed.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Riddle-Ron</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Written for The House Competition<br/>Prompt: [Object] Hufflepuff’s cup</p><p>Have some pain with a side of fluff!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Chamber of Secrets was different than Hermione had expected. It was bigger, statelier, and much more elegant, a grandiosity that contradicted its secrecy — wouldn't Tom Riddle want to boast about a place like this?</p><p>Hermione assumed that Ron and Harry had been exaggerating when they described the Chamber back in their second year, but it turned out they were not. The towering pillars, intricate serpent carvings, and massive statue of Salazar Slytherin matched the splendor of a temple.</p><p>Yet, there was something sinister about its grandeur, and Hermione couldn't quite name it. A rotten corpse would look out-of-place in any other temple, but in the Chamber of Secrets, the large, coiled, Basilisk skeleton fit right in. She was kneeling next to the monster now, clutching one of its fangs in her trembling hand, while Helga Hufflepuff's cup idled before her, its badger emblem slashed and scarred by dark magic.</p><p>"Well… smash it," came Ron's voice, breaking the eerie silence.</p><p>"I...I don't know if I can," she stuttered. She gripped the fang so tightly that her knuckles turned white, but her arm was frozen at her side as if it weighed a thousand tons.</p><p>"Yes, you can," Ron assured her, his tone calm and encouraging.</p><p>His confidence was enough to summon her strength, but as soon as she recoiled her arm to strike, the cup twitched and teetered off to its side, unleashing a mighty cloud of black smoke. The resulting wind gust was so strong that it knocked Hermione off balance.</p><p>Wide-eyed, she watched as the smoke swirled and spiraled upward, morphing into the tall and lanky shape of Ron Weasley. The hologram was so familiar, yet unrecognizable — it looked like a blend between the real Ron and Tom Riddle himself, equal parts handsome and terrifying.</p><p>And then it spoke to her.</p><p>"<em>How silly of you to trust me after I left you," </em>it hissed<em>. "Blinded by a love that will never be mutual. How stupid to fall for me when I could never love you back?"</em></p><p>"Don't listen to it, Hermione. It's just fighting back," said the real Ron, but Hermione barely registered his words.</p><p>"<em>You've seen the way I look at other girls, and you know I'll never see you as anything more than a sister. You are nothing to me. Nothing."</em></p><p>"It's not true. Please don't believe it," repeated Ron, but his voice was muffled, as if he was whispering through radio static.</p><p>Riddle-Ron enlarged, growing more threatening, yet compelling. Hermione stumbled back as its face contorted into a sneer.</p><p>"<em>How daft are you to think that you'd find true success? How could you hope to aid the magical world? Why on earth would you think that you could make up for your dirty blood by reading books? Some things can't be taught. You'll never belong in this world. Never."</em></p><p>"Focus on our goal. Our future. Finding your parents," Ron reminded her firmly.</p><p>Although Hermione could hear the real Ron speaking, and her logical mind knew it was <em>him </em>she needed to listen to, she simply… <em>couldn't.</em> Something about Riddle-Ron was so much more compelling. It was as if it voiced her innermost thoughts, the ones she'd never discussed with anyone else. Her deepest insecurities.</p><p>"<em>What a rotten daughter you were, lying to your parents all these years, convincing yourself it was for their safety. Then you betrayed them — you used magic against them when you promised you never would."</em></p><p>"They'll forgive you! You know they will!" shouted Ron, but his words drifted by, unable to grab her attention.</p><p>"<em>Where are your parents now? Are they safe? Happy? Are they even alive? Did your plan even work?"</em></p><p>"KILL IT!"</p><p>Her arm was frozen again. She wanted the cloud of smoke to stop talking, and maybe it would if she just stabbed the cup, but what would that mean? Would she be running away from her own thoughts? Her own fears?</p><p>Every time it spoke, it tempted Hermione to put the fang down and listen. She loosened her grip, and its hisses grew louder, snarling at her.</p><p>"<em>You don't even know where your parents are, do you? What happens when you find them, and they don't want you back? What will you do when they can never trust you again? When will you admit they're afraid of you?"</em></p><p>"SMASH IT!" Ron's shout briefly grabbed Hermione's attention before Riddle-Ron lured her back in.</p><p>"<em>They don't want you. I don't want you. The magical world doesn't want you."</em></p><p>"HERMIONE!" shouted the real Ron. "Listen to me! It's lying. I know that because… I love you."</p><p><em>I love you</em>. Although spoken softly, those three words managed to drown out the cup's hissing. She didn't know if she believed them, but she wanted to. Was that enough?</p><p>"<em>You don't belong here—"</em></p><p>It had to be enough because the hologram couldn't finish before Hermione's arm moved on its own. She gripped the fang tightly, recoiled, and stabbed the cup with all of her strength.</p><p>The smoke cloud twisted and swarmed, its voice turning from a cold, high hiss to an ear-piercing scream. It swirled with so much force that a tornado might have trampled through the Chamber of Secrets, forcing Ron and Hermione onto their backs, and rupturing the pipes that lined the walls. Water burst forth, drenching both of them, soaking their clothes, and muffling Riddle-Ron's screams, which grew quieter, softer, until silence filled the room once again.</p><p>Panting, Hermione dropped the fang and turned to Ron, who embraced her.</p><p>"You did it," he murmured into her hair.</p><p>"Yeah," she said breathlessly. "I did." Silence hung in the air as she softened into him. "Did you mean that?" she asked, certain that no elaboration was necessary.</p><p>"Yeah," he said, tightening his arms around her. "I did."</p>
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